"A nice business at Sheffield with those Trades Unions," said Mr. Weatherhead. "Some severe measures ought to be taken; but they won't be. That's what your precious Liberalism comes to!--Your lead, Simpson." "Nonsense about Liberalism, Jo Weatherhead," replied Mrs. Dobbs. "I believe you'd like to accuse the Liberals of the bad weather. There!--Did you ever see such a hand? One trump! and that fell. Mrs. Simpson playing out her knave misled me." "Oh, if you reckon on Amelia's having any sufficient motive for playing one card more than another----" exclaimed Amelia's husband. "Have you heard, Mrs. Dobbs, that Mr. Bransby is getting better?" "What Bransby is that?" asked Mr. Weatherhead, thrusting his head forward inquiringly. "Cadell and Bransby, Solicitors to the Dean and Chapter." "Oh-o! He has been ill, then?" "Very ill. But I hear he was pronounced out of danger on Wednesday." "Is it not good news?" cried Mrs. Simpson. "Such a misfortune for his young family! I mean if he had died, you know." "But I suppose he's a warm man, isn't he? Cadell and Bransby--it's a fine business, isn't it?" asked Mr. Weatherhead. "It had need be," rejoined the organist, "to maintain that tribe of boys and girls, and an extravagant young wife into the bargain." "Oh, Bassy, but they are such pretty children! And Mrs. Bransby is so truly elegant and interesting. All her bonnets come from Paris, I am told. And indeed there is a certain style----Eh? You _don't_ mean to say that spades are trumps? What a disappointment! I thought I had all four honours." This ingenuous speech might have called forth some remonstrance from Mrs. Simpson's partner, but that the latter was too much interested in the subject of the Bransbys to attend to it. "The eldest son is provided for by his mother's fortune, isn't he?" he inquired. "Well--'provided for;' I don't know that it is very much. But it was all tightly settled. Otherwise Bransby's second marriage would have been a greater misfortune for the young man than it is," replied the organist. "I don't see that it is any misfortune at all," observed Mrs. Dobbs. "Theodore Bransby is quite well enough off for a young fellow. And why shouldn't his father marry again if he liked it?" "He is an extremely gentleman-like young man, is Mr. Theodore Bransby," said Mrs. Simpson. "I have been imparting daily instruction to the younger children, and I saw him rather frequently when he was at home during the University vacation. He is now reading for the Bar, you know, and I believe----Was that _your_ knave, Mr. Weatherhead? Really! Then I have thrown away my queen. However," smiling amiably, "one can but take the trick. I believe that Mr. Theodore Bransby means to go into Parliament later. There is really something of the statesman about him already, _I_ think--a way of buttoning his coat to the chin, don't you know?" "Is Theodore Bransby in Oldchester now?" asked Mrs. Dobbs, sorting her cards.