I am very sorry.

But I hope you will tell her." The great Jacob knew perfectly well that Mrs.Newt had called, but he liked to show himself how vast his power was.

He liked to see fine ladies in splendid drawing-rooms bowing, down before his ungrammatical throne, and metaphorically kissing his knobby red hand.
"Your son, Abel, seems to enjoy himself werry well, Mrs.Newt," said Mr.
Van Boozenberg, as he observed that youth, in sumptuous array, dancing devotedly with Mrs.Bleecker Van Kraut.
"Oh dear, yes," replied Mrs.Newt.

"But you know what young sons are, Mr.
Van Boozenberg.'" The conversation was setting precisely as that gentleman wished, and as he had intended to direct it.
"Mercy, yes, Mrs.Newt! Ma sez to me, 'Pa, what a boy Corlear is! how he does spend money!' And I sez to ma, 'Ma, he do.' Tut, tut! The bills.

I have to pay for that bay--! I s'pose, now, your Abel don't lay up no money--ha! ha!" Mr.Van Boozenberg laughed again, and Mrs.Newt joined, but in a low and rather distressed way, as if it were necessary to laugh, although nothing funny had been said.
"It's positively dreadful the way he spends money," replied she.