Oh, how shabby I felt as I saw them there with their fine clothes and free-and-easy manners! "Hullo! here you are!" said Doubleday.

"Found you out, then, at last.
Haven't been this way for an age, but knew it at once by the cats.
Hullo, is this your mother?
How do, Mrs Batchelor.

Glad to see you.
Allow me to introduce--" "It's not my mother!" I cried, with a suppressed groan, pulling his arm.
"Eh, not your mother ?--your aunt, perhaps?
How do you--" "No, no," I whispered; "no relation." "Not?
That's a pity! She's a tidy-looking old body, too.

I say, where do you stick your hats, eh?
I bag the door-handle; you hang yours on the key, Crow.

Come on in, you fellows.