But la! says I, why should you
talk about artfulness? I'm right glad poor Mr. Amyas should find a
sprightly young lady to cure him of his mopishness. Never mind them,
my dear, if they do look sour on you. I'll come over one of these
days and talk to them. Now, I must have you come in to take your
dinner with us. The Doctor will be right pleased to find you. I'll
take no excuse. I thank Heaven I'm always ready whoever may drop in.
There's spring chicken and sparrow-grass."
However, on hearing their dinner was ordered at the inn, the good lady
was satisfied that to dine with her was impossible; but she insisted
on their coming in to partake of wine and cake in her best parlour.
This, however, was a little more than Mr. Arden could endure, he made
an excuse about seeing to the horse, and escaped; while Mrs. Hunter
led the two sisters to her closely shut-up parlour, wainscoted, and
hung with two staring simpering portraits of herself and her husband,
clean as soap could make it, but smelling like a long closed box.
She went to a cupboard in the wall, and brought out a silver salver,
a rich cake, glasses and wine, and pouring out the wine, touched the
glass with her lips, as she wished health and happiness to the two
brides before her.
"We shall soon have another wedding in the family, if report speaks
true," she added.
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