'
And proposing to take down one of the books for Mrs. Maine's inspection,
he selected Volume VII., to which he was attracted by the singular fact
that a brass door-handle grew out of the back. Instead of pulling out
a book, however, he pulled open a cupboard, only inhabited by a lazy
housemaid's broom and duster, at which he looked exceedingly discomfited;
while Nelson Collingwood, losing all respect, burst into a roar of
laughter.
'That's the rummest book I ever saw,' says Nelson. 'I wish we'd no
others at Merchant Taylors'.'
'Hush, Nelson!' cries Mrs. Chuff, and we went into the other magnificent
apartments.
How they did admire the drawing-room hangings, (pink and silver brocade,
most excellent wear for London,) and calculated the price per yard;
and revelled on the luxurious sofas; and gazed on the immeasurable
looking-glasses.
'Pretty well to shave by, eh?' says Maine to his mother-in-law. (He was
getting more abominably conceited every minute.) 'Get away, Sackville,'
says she, quite delighted, and threw a glance over her shoulder,
and spread out the wings of the red tabinet, and took a good look
at herself; so did Mrs. Sackville--just one, and I thought the glass
reflected a very smiling, pretty creature.
But what's a woman at a looking-glass? Bless the little dears, it's
their place. They fly to it naturally. It pleases them, and they adorn
it.
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