you've always thrown the children in my face. If Miss Prettyman--
there now; do you hear what you've done--shouting in that manner?
The other lodgers are knocking overhead: who do you think will have
the face to look at 'em to-morrow morning? I sha'n't--breaking
people's rest in that way!

"Well, Caudle--I declare it's getting daylight, and what an obstinate
man you are!--tell me, shall I go to France?"


"I forget," says Caudle, "my precise answer; but I think I gave her a
very wide permission to go somewhere, whereupon, though not without
remonstrance as to the place--she went to sleep."



LECTURE XXVI--MRS. CAUDLE'S FIRST NIGHT IN FRANCE--"SHAMEFUL
INDIFFERENCE" OF CAUDLE AT THE BOULOGNE CUSTOM HOUSE



"I suppose, Mr. Caudle, you call yourself a man? I'm sure such men
should never have wives. If I could have thought it possible you'd
have behaved as you have done--and I might, if I hadn't been a
forgiving creature, for you've never been like anybody else--if I
could only have thought it, you'd never have dragged me to foreign
parts. Never! Well, I DID say to myself, if he goes to France,
perhaps he may catch a little politeness--but no; you began as
Caudle, and as Caudle you'll end. I'm to be neglected through life,
now. Oh yes! I've quite given up all thoughts of anything but