You may as well go into a nunnery.

But I believe the rest till I find you out to the contrary.
Now, go you and get ready.' 'Thank you, sir--thank you.' Soon after this conversation the farmer had mounted his good mare, who was as much refreshed as her master by a night's rest, and with Gladys, _en croupe_, and Lion running by his side, he jogged back to his home.
'We shall have a fine long journey, and a tiresome one enough,' he muttered.

'Thirty mile and carrying double is too much for my mare .-- take the 'oomen! they'll be the death 'o me, one way and another.
There's mother, and Netta, and Miss Gwynne, and now this Gladys! This is the last time I'll put myself out for any of 'em, or my name isn't David Prothero.'.