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They looked strangers to the parish, I think: you must have seen them, I'm sure, eh?" "Bai-ey Je-ove! Two middle-aged ladies; one dwessed in hawf-mawning? "Nonsense, Horner!" said I, interrupting him; "what a mess you are making of it! I said one lady was middle-aged; and both dressed in half-mourning." "Weally, now? No, Lorton, 'pon honah; didn't see 'em, I asshaw you.
Their name is Clyde, and they have a good deal of money, I believe," said Bessie Dasher. "Bai-ey Je-ove!" exclaimed Horner. "I say, old fellah, p'waps they ah those ladies in hawf-mawning, ah?" "Dear me! this is quite interesting," said Miss Spight. "Do let me know what the joke is about ladies in half-mourning, Mr Lorton something romantic, I've no doubt."
I say, old fellah, seen those ladies in hawf-mawning yet, ah?" Brute! I could have kicked him; and I wonder now that I didn't! "She's coming, my own, my sweet! Had she never so airy a tread, My heart would hear her, and beat, Were it earth in an earthy bed!" It was now November, as I have already said; and a very dull, dismal, desolate November it was more so, even, than usual.
But it was all those bweastwy little bahds and the bells, you know; and it's only once a ye-ah you know, Lorton," he added. "So you will never do so again till next time is that what you mean, Horner?" I asked. "Yaas! But, bai-ey Je-ove, I say, Lorton, my deah fellah, were the Clydes those ladies in hawf-mawning, eh?" said he, smiling feebly in his usual suave manner.
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