A half-grown, or hobbadehoyish footman, so to speak, walked after them,
carrying their shining golden prayer-books--the ladies had splendid
parasols with tags and fringes. Mrs. Chuff's great gold watch, fastened
to her stomach, gleamed there like a ball of fire. Nelson Collingwood
was in the distance, shying stones at an old horse on Kennington Common.
'Twas on that verdant spot we met--nor can I ever forget the majestic
courtesy of Mrs. Chuff, as she remembered having had the pleasure of
seeing me at Mrs. Perkins's--nor the glance of scorn which she threw
at an unfortunate gentleman who was preaching an exceedingly desultory
discourse to a sceptical audience of omnibus-cads and nurse-maids, on a
tub, as we passed by. 'I cannot help it, sir,' says she; 'I am the widow
of an officer of Britain's Navy: I was taught to honour my Church and my
King: and I cannot bear a Radical or a Dissenter.'
With these fine principles I found Sackville Maine impressed. 'Wagley,'
said he, to my introducer, 'if no better engagement, why shouldn't self
and friend dine at the "Oval?" Mr. Snob, sir, the mutton's coming off
the spit at this very minute. Laura and Mrs. Chuff' (he said LAURAR and
Mrs. Chuff; but I hate people who make remarks on these peculiarities of
pronunciation,) 'will be most happy to see you; and I can promise you a
hearty welcome, and as good a glass of port-wine as any in England.
Pages:
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238