"No person--not even the mother--can take the child out of the father's custody," he said, "except with the father's consent.

His authority is the supreme authority--unless it happens that the law has deprived him of his privilege, and has expressly confided the child to the mother's care.

Ha!" cried Mr.Sarrazin, twisting round in his chair and fixing his keen eyes on Mrs.Presty, "look at your good mother; _she_ sees what I am coming to." "I see something more than you think," Mrs.Presty answered.

"If I know anything of my daughter's nature, you will find yourself, before long, on delicate ground." "What do you mean, mamma ?" Mrs.Presty had lived in the past age when persons occasionally used metaphor as an aid to the expression of their ideas.

Being called upon to explain herself, she did it in metaphor, to her own entire satisfaction.
"Our learned friend here reminds me, my dear Catherine, of a traveler exploring a strange town.