course they will, my poor old Milliken, you don't dare to
dine without them.

MILLIKEN.--Don't go on in that manner, George Touchit! Why should not my
step-father and my mother dine with me? I can afford it. I am a domestic
man and like to see my relations about me. I am in the city all day.

TOUCHIT.--Luckily for you.

MILLIKEN.--And my pleasure of an evening is to sit under my own vine and
under my own fig-tree with my own olive-branches round about me; to sit
by my fire with my children at my knees: to coze over a snug bottle of
claret after dinner with a friend like you to share it; to see the young
folks at the breakfast-table of a morning, and to kiss them and so off
to business with a cheerful heart. This was my scheme in marrying, had
it pleased heaven to prosper my plan. When I was a boy and came from
school and college, I used to see Mr. Bonnington, my father-in-law, with
HIS young ones clustering round about him, so happy to be with him! so
eager to wait on him! all down on their little knees round my mother
before breakfast or jumping up on his after dinner. It was who should
reach his hat, and who should bring his coat, and who should fetch his
umbrella, and who should get the last kiss.

TOUCHIT.--What? didn't he kiss YOU? Oh, the hard-hearted old ogre!

MILLIKEN.--DON'T, Touchit! Don't laugh at Mr. Bonnington! he is as good
a fellow as ever breathed. Between you and me, as my half brothers and
sisters increased and multiplied year after year, I used to feel rather
lonely, rather bowled out, you understand. But I saw them so happy that
I longed to have a home of my own. When my mother proposed Arabella for
me (for she and Lady Kicklebury were immense friends at one time), I was
glad enough to give up clubs and bachelorhood, and to settle down as a
married man. My mother acted for the best. My poor wife's character,
my mother used to say, changed after marriage. I was not as happy as I
hoped to be; but I tried for it. George, I am not so comfortable now as
I might be. A house without a mistress, with two mothers-in-law reigning
over it--one worldly and aristocratic, another what you call serious,
though she don't mind a rubber of whist: I give you my honor my mother
plays a game at whist, and an uncommonly good game too--each woman
dragging over a child to her side: of course such a family cannot be
comfortable. [Bell rings.] There's the first dinner-bell. Go and dress,
for heaven's sake.

TOUCHIT.--