suppose your own children are not sweet-tempered?"

"That's neither here nor there," said Mr. Morton: "my own children are
such as God made them, and I am very well satisfied."

"Indeed you may be proud of such a family; and to think of the pains I
have taken with them, and how I have saved you in nurses, and the bad
times I have had; and now, to find their noses put out of joint by that
little mischief-making interloper--it is too bad of you, Mr. Morton; you
will break my heart--that you will!"

Mrs. Morton put her handkerchief to her eyes and sobbed. The husband was
moved: he got up and attempted to take her hand. "Indeed, Margaret, I
did not mean to vex you."

"And I who have been such a fa--fai--faithful wi--wi--wife, and brought you
such a deal of mon--mon--money, and always stud--stud--studied your
interests; many's the time when you have been fast asleep that I have sat
up half the night--men--men--mending the house linen; and you have not
been the same man, Roger, since that boy came!"

"Well, well" said the good man, quite overcome, and fairly taking her
round the waist and kissing her; "no words between us; it makes life
quite unpleasant. If it pains you to have Sidney here, I will put him
to some school in the town, where they'll be kind to him. Only, if you
would, Margaret, for my sake--old girl! come, now! there's a darling!--
just be more tender with him. You see he frets so after his mother.
Think how little Tom would fret if he was away from you! Poor little
Tom!"