The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. Twice we hired caterers. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. ‘You see, Melusine, that none of our visitors were as informed as they would wish to be. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. At least for one moment, it was. ’ ‘Yes, but they did do so.
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