Meanwhile, Mrs Jemima Crabbin was busy with the face of Mr Caleb, to see what she could find there; but the man, who never had any great sense of justice, showed no smile, as she had done when _his_ children came so unexpectedly in upon her. A sombre gloom covered his face, and he sat and looked as glum as he did on every occasion when Mrs Amelia Crabbin had brought him a child; and, probably, if there had been any deeper shade, or rather five times as deep as that expression, it would have found a place upon his face.
"Are all these your children, madam?" said Caleb, with a voice that expressed with the question a tendency to choke.
"Yes," answered Mrs Crabbin; "but you see, my dear sir, you beat me; for, while I have only five, you have six."
"Eleven of a family to support on two thousand pounds of principal, at four per cent., and one hundred and fifty per annum on the life of Mrs Jemima Crabbin!" groaned Mr Caleb. "A deuced poor trafficker I am proved to be! Would I not have been better as a hosier?"
"A hosier!" ejaculated Mrs Crabbin. "I took you for a gentleman, as Mr Frederick Bowsie was, every inch of him."
"And I took you for a solitary widow, as you led me to believe," responded he.
"And so, to be sure, I took you for a solitary widower, carrying the key of your house in your pocket, as you previously told me," was the just reply.
At this juncture the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the other three Crabbins, who acted over again the scene of their brothers and sister; and thus there were brought on the carpet no fewer than eleven of a family, one-half strangers to their half-brothers and sisters, and all talking, and laughing, and romping in a manner that might have afforded no small joy to well-conditioned parents. Yet Mr Caleb was not to be cajoled by their fun into anything like good humour, for no man likes to behold the evidence of the almost total defeat of a darling project, which he had held to be the pride and profit of his existence. Nor was the bringing of eight more tea-cups, instantly ordered by Mrs Crabbin, likely to effect what the romping of the "dear ones" had not been able to accomplish; and it is impossible to say how long he would have remained under the cloud of his gloom, had not Mrs Crabbin risen, and, going round to him by the backs of the circle of children, gently and playfully clapped him on the hanging clouded cheek.