"No! or we should be sitting in flaming fagots, I suppose," retorted the singer. "But wisht, old man, and read your Bible like a Christian, and never mind me. This is 'Fairy Annie's Wedding'-a bonny tune-it goes to a dance."
Mrs. Dean was about to recommence, when I advanced; and recognising me directly, she jumped to her feet, crying-"Why, bless you, Mr. Lockwood! How could you think of returning in this way? All's shut up at Thrushcross Grange. You should have given us notice!"

'Hush, old man,' retorted Mrs. Dean; 'read your Bible, and never mind me.'
She was about to start singing again, when I advanced; and she jumped to her feet, crying, 'Why, bless you, Mr. Lockwood! How could you think of returning in this way? You should have given us notice!'
