‘Nay, nay, nay, we’ve done no harm, we’ve done no harm, hev we, Lizzie? The wash-tub’ll make all right again.’ Sally, regarding the wash-tub from a different point of view, looked sourly serious, and hurried away with Lizzie, who trotted submissively along, her little head in eclipse under a large nankin bonnet, while Mr. Jerome followed leisurely with his full broad shoulders in rather a stooping posture, and his large good-natured features and white locks shaded by a broad-brimmed hat. ‘Mr. Jerome, I wonder at you,’ said Mrs. Jerome, in a tone of indignant remonstrance, evidently sustained by a deep sense of injury, as her husband opened the parlour door. ‘When will you leave off invitin’ people to meals an’ not lettin’ ’em know the time? I’ll answer for’t, you niver said a word to Mr. Tryan as we should take tea at five o’clock. It’s just like you!’ ‘Nay, nay, Susan,’ answered the husband in a soothing tone, ‘there’s nothin’ amiss. I told Mr. Tryan as we took tea at five punctial; mayhap summat’s a detainin’ on him. He’s a deal to do, an’ to think on, remember.’ ‘Why, it’s struck six i’ the kitchen a’ready. It’s nonsense to look for him comin’ now. So you may’s well ring for th’ urn. Now Sally’s got th’ heater in the fire, we may’s well hev th’ urn in, though he doesn’t come. I niver see’d the like o’ you, Mr. Jerome, for axin’ people an’ givin’ me the trouble o’ gettin’ things down an’ hevin’ crumpets made, an’ after all they don’t come. I shall hev to wash every one o’ these tea-things myself, for there’s no trustin’ Sally--she’d break a fortin i’ crockery i’ no time!’ ‘But why will you give yourself sich trouble, Susan? Our everyday tea-things would ha’ done as well for Mr. Tryan, an’ they’re a deal convenenter to hold.’ ‘Yes, that’s just your way, Mr. Jerome, you’re al’ys a-findin’ faut wi’ my chany, because I bought it myself afore I was married. But let me tell you, I knowed how to choose chany if I didn’t know how to choose a husband. An’ where’s Lizzie? You’ve niver left her i’ the garden by herself, with her white frock on an’ clean stockins?’ ‘Be easy, my dear Susan, be easy; Lizzie’s come in wi’ Sally. She’s hevin’ her pinafore took off, I’ll be bound. Ah! there’s Mr. Tryan a-comin’ through the gate.’ Mrs. Jerome began hastily to adjust her damask napkin and the expression of her countenance for the reception of the clergyman, and Mr. Jerome went out to meet his guest, whom he greeted outside the door. ‘Mr. Tryan, how do you do, Mr. Tryan? Welcome to the White House! I’m glad to see you, sir--I’m glad to see you.’