She made her excuses for her irritability with a grace that enchanted him.

"We'll have a pleasant evening of it yet!" cried Arnold, in his hearty way--and rang the bell.
The bell was hung outside the door of that Patmos in the wilderness--otherwise known as the head-waiter's pantry.

Mr.Bishopriggs (employing his brief leisure in the seclusion of his own apartment) had just mixed a glass of the hot and comforting liquor called "toddy" in the language of North Britain, and was just lifting it to his lips, when the summons from Arnold invited him to leave his grog.
"Haud yer screechin' tongue!" cried Mr.Bishopriggs, addressing the bell through the door.

"Ye're waur than a woman when ye aince begin!" The bell--like the woman--went on again.

Mr.Bishopriggs, equally pertinacious, went on with his toddy.
"Ay! ay! ye may e'en ring yer heart out--but ye won't part a Scotchman from his glass.