_Mrs. Prior._ “What’s here? almonds and raisins, macaroons, preserved apricots, biscuits for dessert—and—la bless the man! how you sta—artled me!” _Bedford._ “DONT! Mrs. Prior: I beg and implore of you, keep your ’ands out of the dessert. I can’t stand it. I _must_ tell the governor if this game goes on.” _Mrs. P._ “Ah! Mr. Bedford, it is for my poor—poor child at home: the doctor recommended her apricots. Ay, indeed, dear Bedford; he did, for her poor chest!” _Bedford._ “And I’m blest if you haven’t been at the sherry-bottle again! Oh, Mrs. P., you drive me wild—you do. I can’t see Lovel put upon in this way. You know it’s only last week I whopped the boy for stealing the sherry, and ’twas you done it.” _Mrs. Prior_ (passionately). “For a sick child, Bedford. What won’t a mother do for her sick child!” _Bedford._ “Your children’s always sick. You’re always taking things for ’em. I tell you, by the laws, I won’t and mustn’t stand it, Mrs. P.” _Mrs. Prior_ (with much spirit). “Go and tell your master, Bedford! Go and tell tales of me, sir. Go and have me dismissed out of this house. Go and have my daughter dismissed out of this house, and her poor mother brought to disgrace.” _Bedford._ “Mrs. Prior—Mrs. Prior! you _have_ been a-taking the sherry. A glass I don’t mind: but you’ve been a-bringing that bottle again.” _Mrs. P._ (whimpering). “It’s for Charlotte, Bedford! my poor delicate angel of a Shatty! she’s ordered it, indeed she is!” _Bedford._ “Confound your Shatty! I can’t stand it, I mustn’t, and won’t, Mrs. P!” Here a noise and clatter of other persons arriving interrupted the conversation between Lovel’s major-domo and the mother of the children’s governess, and I presently heard master Pop’s voice saying, “You’re going to tea with us, Mrs. Prior?” _Mrs. P._ “Your kind dear grandmammas have asked me, dear Master Popham.” _Pop._ “But you’d like to go to dinner best, wouldn’t you? I daresay you have doocid bad dinners at your house. Haven’t you, Mrs. Prior?” _Cissy._ “Don’t say doocid. Its a naughty word, Popham!” _Pop._ “I _will_ say doocid. Doo-oo-oocid! There! And I’ll say worse words too, if I please, and you hold _your_ tongue. What’s there for tea? jam for tea? strawberries for tea? muffins for tea? That’s it: strawberries and muffins for tea! And we’ll go into dessert besides: that’s prime. I say, Miss Prior?” _Miss Prior._ “What do you say, Popham?” _Pop._ “Shouldn’t you like to go into dessert?—there’s lots of good things there,—and have wine? Only when grandmamma tells her story about—about my grandfather and King George the what-d’ye-call-’em: King George the Fourth——” _Cis._ “Ascended the throne 1820; died at Windsor 1830.” _Pop._ “Bother Windsor! Well, when she tells that story, I can tell you _that_ ain’t very good fun.” _Cis._ “And it’s rude of you to speak in that way of your grandmamma, Pop!”