My father thinks a great deal of Sidney, else he would not have sent him to Malta. Do try and be cheerful, there's a good soul. Sidney will tell you plenty to make you laugh, when he comes home." "If he ever does come home," sighed the old woman. "What do you mean by that?" "Oh, it's all very well asking questions as can't be answered nohow, my lady, but I be all of a mubble-fubble, that I be."
"What is a mubble-fubble?" asked Hope, staring. "It's a queer-like feeling of death and sorrow and tears of blood and not lifting your head for groans," said Widow Anne incoherently, "and there's meanings in mubble-fumbles, as we're told in Scripture.