The old lady's hands stray about her as of yore, while she recalls, all in a tremble, what a likely lad, what a fine lad, what a gay good-humoured clever lad he was; how they all took to him down at Chesney Wold; how Sir Leicester took to him when he was a young gentleman; how the dogs took to him; how even the people who had been angry with him forgave him the moment he was gone, poor boy. And now to see him after all, and in a prison too! And the broad stomacher heaves, and the quaint upright old-fashioned figure bends under its load of affectionate distress.

The old lady recalls, all in a tremble, what a fine, likely lad he was; how they all took to him down at Chesney Wold; how Sir Leicester took to him; the dogs took to him; even the people who had been angry with him forgave him the moment he was gone, poor boy. And now to see him in a prison! The quaint, upright, old-fashioned figure bends under its load of affectionate distress.
