"So, I suppose we've seen the last of our merry carousals in this house," said Mr. Hattersley, "I thought his good-fellowship wouldn't last long.—But," added he, laughing, "I didn't expect it would meet its end this way. I rather thought our pretty hostess would be setting up her porcupine quills, and threatening to turn us out of the house, if we didn't mind our manners."
"You didn't foresee this, then?" answered Grimsby with a guttural chuckle. "But he'll change again when he's sick of her. If we come here a year or two hence, we shall have all our own way, you'll see."
"I don't know," replied the other: "she's not the style of woman you soon tire of—but be that as it may, it's devilish provoking now, that we can't be jolly, because he chooses to be on his good behaviour."
"It's all these cursed women!" muttered Grimsby. "They're the very bane of the world! They bring trouble and discomfort
