‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir. Ain’t enough as I’ve got militiamen quartered on me this se’ennight, lazing about all day, eating me out of house and home and drinking my liquor into the bargain. Courtlaw—Lady Mackinnor. He’s a catch, Lucy. ‘What’s more,’ went on Martha, ‘I knew something Mr Charvill didn’t, or he wouldn’t so readily have left it behind him. Now for it, Thames! Make as great a row as you can to divert his attention. She’s a snob.
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