“Poor dears! how tired you must both be! I began to think you would never come. Betsey and I have been watching for you this half-hour. And when did you get anything to eat? And what would you like to have now? Some meat, or only a dish of tea? And now I am afraid Campbell will be here before there is time to dress a steak, and we have no butcher at hand. It is very inconvenient to have no butcher in the street. The neighborhood these days seems to have no decent folk, only a lot of odd-looking fellows, with atrocious skin, I dare say, all windblown—you could almost call it peeling like a bad onion! We were better off in our last house. Perhaps you would like some tea as soon as it can be got.”

They both declared they should prefer it to anything. “Then, Betsey, my dear, run into the kitchen and see if Rebecca has put the water on; and tell her to bring in the tea-things as soon as she can. I wish we could get the bell mended; but Betsey is a very handy little messenger. And Rebecca needs be told twice; lately, she has got a wind-blown sailor fellow who follows her around, so her mind’s off work—”

Betsey went with alacrity, proud to shew her abilities before her fine new sister.

“Dear me!” continued the anxious mother, “what a sad fire we have got, and I dare say you are both starved with cold. Draw your chair nearer, my dear. I cannot think what Rebecca has been about. I am sure I told her to bring some coals half an hour ago. Susan, you should have taken care of the fire.”

“I was upstairs, mama, moving my things,” said Susan, in a fearless, self-defending tone, which startled Fanny. “You know you had but just settled that my sister Fanny and I should have the other room; and I could not get Rebecca to give me any help.”

Further discussion was prevented by various bustles: first, the driver came to be paid; then there was a squabble between Sam and Rebecca about the manner of carrying up his sister’s trunk. And lastly, in walked Mr. Price himself, his own loud voice preceding him, as with something of the oath kind he kicked away his son’s port-manteau and his daughter’s bandbox in the passage, and called out for a candle. No candle was brought, however, and he walked into the room.