The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. ‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter. I shall always be kind to him; I sha'n't bait him. It was then for the first time she remembered that she had said nothing to her sister of the man in the hospital.
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