"However, good- morrow to you, young rye." "I do not see Tawno," said I, looking around; "where is he ?" "Where, indeed!" said Mrs.Chikno; "I don't know; he who countenances him in the roving line can best answer." "He will be here anon," said Mr.Petulengro; "he has merely ridden down a by-road to show a farmer a two-year-old colt; she heard me give him directions, but she can't be satisfied." "I can't indeed," said Mrs.Chikno.
"And why not, sister ?" "Because I place no confidence in your words, brother; as I said before, you countenances him." "Well," said I, "I know nothing of your private concerns; I am come on an errand.

Isopel Berners, down in the dell there, requests the pleasure of Mr.and Mrs.Petulengro's company at breakfast.

She will be happy also to see you, madam," said I, addressing Mrs.Chikno.
"Is that young female your wife, young man ?" said Mrs.Chikno.
"My wife ?" said I.
"Yes, young man; your wife, your lawful certificated wife ?" "No," said I; "she is not my wife." "Then I will not visit with her," said Mrs.Chikno; "I countenance nothing in the roving line." "What do you mean by the roving line ?" I demanded.
"What do I mean by the roving line?
Why, by it I mean such conduct as is not tatcheno.

When ryes and rawnies live together in dingles, without being certificated, I call such behaviour being tolerably deep in the roving line, everything savouring of which I am determined not to sanctify.

I have suffered too much by my own certificated husband's outbreaks in that line to afford anything of the kind the slightest shadow of countenance." "It is hard that people may not live in dingles together without being suspected of doing wrong," said I.
"So it is," said Mrs.Petulengro, interposing; "and, to tell you the truth, I am altogether surprised at the illiberality of my sister's remarks.