I don't suppose you quite like it; it wouldn't be natural if you did; I know I shouldn't if I were in your place.

Still you know your disliking it won't alter it, and I hope we shall get on well together.

Give me your hand, my lad, you won't find me a bad sort of fellow." "I hope not," Ned said quietly, taking Mr.Mulready's hand and continuing to hold it while he went on: "I don't pretend I like it, and I know it makes no difference whether I do or not; the principal point is, that my mother should be happy, and if you make her happy I have no doubt we shall, as you say, get on well together; if you don't, we shan't." There was no mistaking the threat conveyed in Ned's steady tones, and Mr.Mulready, as Ned dropped his hand, felt that he should have more trouble with the boy than he had expected.

He gave a forced laugh.
"One would think, Ned, that you thought it likely I was going to be unkind to your mother." "No," Ned said quietly, "I don't want to think about it one way or the other, only I promised my father I would be kind to my mother; that means that I would look after her, and I mean to.
"Well, mother," he said in his usual tone, turning to Mrs.Sankey, "and how are you this morning ?" "I was feeling better, Ned," she said sharply; "but your unpleasant way of talking, and your nonsense about taking care of me, have made me feel quite ill again.

Somehow you always seem to shake my nerves.