"Here comes papa," she presently said.
"Oh, I am so glad!" cried poor Mrs.Hare.

"Perhaps he will not mind having the tea in at once, if I told him how thirsty _I_ am." The justice came in.

A middle sized man, with pompous features, and a pompous walk, and a flaxen wig.

In his aquiline nose, compressed lips, and pointed chin, might be traced a resemblance to his daughter; though he never could have been half so good-looking as was pretty Barbara.
"Richard," spoke up Mrs.Hare from between her shawls, the instant he opened the door.
"Well ?" "Would you please let me have tea in now?
Would you very much mind taking it a little earlier this evening?
I am feverish again, and my tongue is so parched I don't know how to speak." "Oh, it's near seven; you won't have long to wait." With this exceedingly gracious answer to an invalid's request, Mr.Hare quitted the room again and banged the door.

He had not spoken unkindly or roughly, simply with indifference.