"Now, tell me why they brought you here?" "I came to see you, dear mother!" answered Jack. He called Enschede the Bellower. She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence. It’s one of our conventional superstitions. Indeed, he told me nothing at all. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. He has told me sufficient of you—" "My dear," interposed Wood, "for goodness' sake—" "I will speak," screamed his wife, totally disregarding the interruption; "I will tell this worthless creature what I know about her,—and what I think of her.
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