“My dear aunt,” exclaimed Mr. Ben Allen, “how kind of you to look in upon us! Mr. Sawyer, aunt; my friend Mr. Bob Sawyer whom I have spoken to you about, regarding⁠—you know, aunt.” And here Mr. Ben Allen, who was not at the moment extraordinarily sober, added the word “Arabella,” in what was meant to be a whisper, but which was an especially audible and distinct tone of speech which nobody could avoid hearing, if anybody were so disposed.

“My dear Benjamin,” said the old lady, struggling with a great shortness of breath, and trembling from head to foot, “don’t be alarmed, my dear, but I think I had better speak to Mr. Sawyer, alone, for a moment. Only for one moment.”