Wen hit's one er dese-yer common 'currences, a body kin reckon maybe de cat--" "Oh!" and a shudder shook Lady Rossmore to her foundations.

"I see it all.

Keep away from them--they're his." "His, m' lady ?" "Yes--your young Marse Sellers from England that's burnt up." She was alone with the ashes--alone before she could take half a breath.
Then she went after Mulberry Sellers, purposing to make short work with his program, whatever it might be; "for," said she, "when his sentimentals are up, he's a numskull, and there's no knowing what extravagance he'll contrive, if you let him alone." She found him.
He had found the flag and was bringing it.

When she heard that his idea was to have the remains "lie in state, and invite the government and the public," she broke it up.

She said: "Your intentions are all right--they always are--you want to do honour to the remains, and surely nobody can find any fault with that, for he was your kin; but you are going the wrong way about it, and you will see it yourself if you stop and think.