"He has been with me to see old Mrs.Robins, and she made so much of him, that if I take him again he'll be regularly spoiled." "Poor old woman, it must have been a pleasure to her," said Mrs.
May--"it is so seldom she has any change." "Who is she ?" asked Mr.Ernescliffe.
"The butcher's old mother," said Margaret, who was next to him.

"She is one of papa's pet patients, because he thinks her desolate and ill-used." "Her sons bully her," said the doctor, too intent on carving to perceive certain deprecatory glances of caution cast at him by his wife, to remind him of the presence of man and maid--"and that smart daughter is worse still.

She never comes to see the old lady but she throws her into an agitated state, fit to bring on another attack.

A meek old soul, not fit to contend with them!" "Why do they do it ?" said Ethel.
"For the cause of all evil! That daughter marries a grazier, and wants to set up for gentility; she comes and squeezes presents out of her mother, and the whole family are distrusting each other, and squabbling over the spoil before the poor old creature is dead! It makes one sick! I gave that Mrs.Thorn a bit of my mind at last; I could not stand the sight any longer.

Madam, said I, you'll have to answer for your mother's death, as sure as my name's Dick May--a harpy dressed up in feathers and lace." There was a great laugh, and an entreaty to know whether this was really his address--Ethel telling him she knew he had muttered it to himself quite audibly, for which she was rewarded by a pretended box on the ear.
It certainly was vain to expect order at dinner on Saturday, for the doctor was as bad as the boys, and Mrs.May took it with complete composure, hardly appearing sensible of the Babel which would sometimes almost deafen its promoter, papa; and yet her interference was all-powerful, as now when Harry and Mary were sparring over the salt, with one gentle "Mary!" and one reproving glance, they were reduced to quiescence.
Meanwhile Dr.May, in a voice above the tumult, was telling "Maggie," as he always called his wife, some piece of news about Mr.Rivers, who had bought Abbotstoke Grange; and Alan Ernescliffe, in much lower tones, saying to Margaret how he delighted in the sight of these home scenes, and this free household mirth.
"It is the first time you have seen us in perfection," said Margaret, "with mamma at the head of the table--no, not quite perfection either, without Richard." "I am very glad to have seen it," repeated Alan.