nty, it ain't."

"Round figures are best," Adrian remarked.

"In them round figures a be-loved son have growed up, and got himself
married!" said Mrs. Berry, diving straight into the case.

Sir Austin then learnt that he had before him the culprit who had
assisted his son in that venture. It was a stretch of his patience to
hear himself addressed on a family matter; but he was naturally
courteous.

"He came to my house, Sir Austin, a stranger! If twenty year alters us as
have knowed each other on the earth, how must they alter they that we
parted with just come from heaven! And a heavenly babe he were! so sweet!
so strong! so fat!"

Adrian laughed aloud.

Mrs. Berry bumped a curtsey to him in her chair, continuing: "I wished
afore I spoke to say how thankful am I bound to be for my pension not cut
short, as have offended so, but that I know Sir Austin Feverel, Raynham
Abbey, ain't one o' them that likes to hear their good deeds pumlished.
And a pension to me now, it's something more than it were. For a pension
and pretty rosy cheeks in a maid, which I was--that's a bait many a
man'll bite, that won't so a forsaken wife!"

"If you will speak to the point, ma'am, I will listen to you," the
baronet interrupted her.

"It's the beginnin' that's the worst, and that's over, thank the Lord! So
I'll speak, Sir Austin, and say my say:--Lord speed me! Believin' our
idees o' matrimony to be sim'lar, then, I'll say, once married--married
for life! Yes! I don't even like widows. For I can't stop at the grave.
Not at the tomb I can't stop. My husband's my husband, and if I'm a body
at the Resurrection, I say, speaking humbly, my Berry is the husband o'
my body; and to think of two claimin' of me then--it makes me hot all
over. Such is my notion of that state 'tween man and woman. No givin' in
marriage, o' course I know; and if so I'm single."

The baronet suppressed a smile. "Really, my good woman, you wander very
much."

"Beggin' pardon, Sir Austin; but I has my point before me all the same,
and I'm comin' to it. Ac-knowledgin' our error, it'd done, and bein'
done, it's writ aloft. Oh! if you ony knew what a sweet young creature
she be! Indeed; 'taint all of humble birth that's unworthy, Sir Austin.
And she got her idees, too: She reads History! She talk that sensible as
would surprise ye. But for all that she's a prey to the artful o'
men--unpertected. And it's a young marriage--but there's no fear for her,
as far as sh