.

." "I suppose by talking of your four children you wish to check me for having none," said Mrs.Chikno, bursting into tears; "if I have no children, sister, it is no fault of mine, it is--but why do I call you sister," said she, angrily, "you are no sister of mine, you are a grasni, a regular mare--a pretty sister, indeed, ashamed of your own language.

I remember well that by your high-flying notions you drove your own mother.

.

." "We will drop it," said Mrs.Petulengro; "I do not wish to raise my voice, and to make myself ridiculous.