For as the Scripture says, 'A man shall cleave to his wife and--'" Here a sharp, shrill ring at the bell was heard, and Mrs.Morton broke off into: "Well! I declare! at this hour; who can that be?
And all gone to bed! Do go and see, Mr.Morton." Somewhat reluctantly and slowly, Mr.Morton rose; and, proceeding to the passage, unbarred the door.

A brief and muttered conversation followed, to the great irritability of Mrs.Morton, who stood in the passage--the candle in her hand.
"What is the matter, Mr.M. ?" Mr.Morton turned back, looking agitated.
"Where's my hat?
oh, here.

My sister is come, at the inn." "Gracious me! She does not go for to say she is your sister ?" "No, no: here's her note-calls herself a lady that's ill.

I shall be back soon." "She can't come here--she sha'n't come here, Mr.M.I'm an honest woman--she can't come here.

You understand--" Mr.Morton had naturally a stern countenance, stern to every one but his wife.