"Mr. Sedley was uncommon wild last night, sir," he whispered in confidence to Osborne, as the latter mounted the stair. "He wanted to fight the 'ackney-coachman, sir. The Capting was obliged to bring him upstairs in his harms like a babby." A momentary smile flickered over Mr. Brush's features as he spoke; instantly, however, they relapsed into their usual unfathomable calm, as he flung open the drawing-room door, and announced "Mr. Hosbin."
"How are you, Sedley?" that young wag began, after surveying his victim. "No bones broke? There's a hackney-coachman downstairs with a black eye, and a tied-up head, vowing he'll have the law of you."

"Mr. Sedley was uncommon wild last night, sir," he whispered to Osborne. "He wanted to fight the 'ackney-coachman, sir. The Capting had to bring him upstairs in his arms like a babby."
"How are you, Sedley?" Osborne asked. "No bones broke? There's a hackney-coachman downstairs with a black eye, vowing he'll have the law on you."
