"Well, brother-in-law," said Dick, "I don't see any harm in that. I'll
go and fetch them for you."

What does this sensible Dick do but go up-stairs to Phoebe, and say, "He
wants three pounds to buy a suit; am I to lend it him?"

Phoebe was shaking and patting her penitent's pillow. She dropped it
on the bed in dismay. "Oh, Dick, not for all the world! Why, if he had
three sovereigns, he'd desert me at the water's edge. Oh, God help me,
how I love him! God forgive me, how I mistrust him! Good Dick! kind
Dick! say we have suits of clothes, and we'll fit him like a prince,
as he ought to be, on board ship; but not a shilling of money: and, my
dear, don't put the weight on ME. You understand?"

"Ay, mistress, I understand."

"Good Dick!"

"Oh, all right! and then don't you snap this here good, kind Dick's nose
off at a word again."

"Never. I get wild if anybody threatens him. Then I'm not myself.
Forgive my hasty tongue. You know I love you, dear!"

"Oh, ay! you love me well enough. But seems to me your love is precious
like cold veal, and your love for that chap is hot roast beef."

"Ha, ha, ha, ha!"

"Oh, ye can laugh now, can ye?"