Mr. Caudle. Don't insult me. HE return the umbrella! Anybody would
think you were born yesterday. As if anybody ever DID return an
umbrella! There--do you hear it! Worse and worse! Cats and dogs,
and for six weeks, always six weeks. And no umbrella!

"I should like to know how the children are to go to school to-
morrow? They sha'n't go through such weather, I'm determined. No:
they shall stop at home and never learn anything--the blessed
creatures!--sooner than go and get wet. And when they grow up, I
wonder who they'll have to thank for knowing nothing--who, indeed,
but their father? People who can't feel for their own children ought
never to be fathers.

"But I know why you lent the umbrella. Oh, yes; I know very well. I
was going out to tea at dear mother's to-morrow--you knew that; and
you did it on purpose. Don't tell me; you hate me to go there, and
take every mean advantage to hinder me. But don't you think it, Mr.
Caudle. No, sir; if it comes down in buckets-full I'll go all the
more. No: and I won't have a cab. Where do you think the money's
to come from? You've got nice high notions at that club of yours. A
cab, indeed! Cost me sixteenpence at least--sixteenpence! two-and-
eightpence, for there's back again. Cabs, indeed! I should like to
know who's to pay for 'em; _I_ can't pay for 'em, and I'm sure you
can't, if you go on as you do; throwing away your property, and
beggaring your children--buying umbrellas!

"Do you hear the rain, Mr. Caudle? I say, do you hear it? But I
don't care--I'll go to mother's to-morrow: I will; and what's more,
I'll walk every step of the way,--and you know that will give me my
death. Don't call me a foolish woman, it's you that's the foolish