The ladies had to make an effort to recover their condemnatory judgement.
"Oh!" cried Mrs.Chump; "and if you've got a yacht, Mr.Wilfrud, won't ye have a great parcel o' the arr'stocracy on board ?" "You may spy a title by the aid of a telescope," said Wilfrid.
"And I'm to come, I am ?" "Are you not elected captain ?" "Oh, if ye've got lords and real ladies on board, I'll come, be sure of ut! I'll be as sick as a cat, I will.

But, I'll come, if it's the rroon of my stomach.

I'd say to Chump, 'Oh, if ye'd only been born a lord, or would just get yourself struck a knight on one o' your shoulders,--oh, Chump!' I'd say, 'it wouldn't be necessary to be rememberin' always the words of the cerr'mony about lovin' and honourin' and obeyin' of a little whistle of a fella like you.' Poor lad! he couldn't stop for his luck! Did ye ask me to take wine, Mr.Wilfrud?
I'll be cryin', else, as a widde should, ye know!" Frequent administrations of wine arrested the tears of Mrs.Chump, until it is possible that the fulness of many a checked flow caused her to redden and talk slightly at random.

At the first mention of their father's name, the ladies went out from the room.

It was foolish, for they might have watched the effect of certain vinous innuendoes addressed to Wilfrid's apprehensiveness; but they were weakened and humbled, and everything they did was foolish.