"Well, sir," said she, "you are a bird of passage, here to-day and gone
to-morrow, and it don't matter much what I tell you, so long as I don't
tell no lies. _There will be a row in this village_."
Having delivered this formidable prophecy, the coy dame pushed her glass
to her companion for more, and leaning back cozily in the old-fashioned
high-backed chair, observed the effect of her thunder-bolt.
Monckton rubbed his hands. "I'm glad of it," said he, genially; "that is
to say, provided my good hostess does not suffer by it."
"I'm much beholden to you, sir," said the lady. "You are the
civilest-spoken gentleman I have entertained this many a day. Here's your
health, and wishing you luck in your business, and many happy days well
spent. My service to you, sir."
"The same to you, ma'am."
"Well, sir, in regard to a row between the gentlefolks--not that I call
that there Bartley one--judge for yourself. You are a man of the world
and a man of business, and an elderly man apparently."
"At all events, I am older than you, madam.
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