Your great-uncle, Lillyvick, my dears!' interposed Mr Kenwigs, condescendingly explaining it to the children.
'His kindest love,' resumed Nicholas; 'and to say that he had no time to write, but that he was married to Miss Petowker.' Mr Kenwigs started from his seat with a petrified stare, caught his second daughter by her flaxen tail, and covered his face with his pocket-handkerchief.

Morleena fell, all stiff and rigid, into the baby's chair, as she had seen her mother fall when she fainted away, and the two remaining little Kenwigses shrieked in affright.
'My children, my defrauded, swindled infants!' cried Mr Kenwigs, pulling so hard, in his vehemence, at the flaxen tail of his second daughter, that he lifted her up on tiptoe, and kept her, for some seconds, in that attitude.

'Villain, ass, traitor!' 'Drat the man!' cried the nurse, looking angrily around.

'What does he mean by making that noise here ?' 'Silence, woman!' said Mr Kenwigs, fiercely.
'I won't be silent,' returned the nurse.

'Be silent yourself, you wretch.