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A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY,
AND
OTHER  TALES.
BY
WILLIAM M'i THACKERAY.
NEW-YORK:
D. APPLETON & COMPANY, 200 BROADWAY.
1853.








PUBLISHERS' ADVERTISEMENT.
OF the contents of the present volume, "A  Shabby
Genteel Story" appeared originally in Frazer's Magazine in 1840; the three Tales which follow were published by the author in a collection of similar papers
in 1841, and "A Little Dinner at Timmins's " is from
one of the volumes of Punch for 1848.
NEW-YORK, Oct. 1852








CONTENTS.
PAGE.
A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY,...          9
THE PROFESSOR,....    153
THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRAJY,... 1
A- LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S,...    243








A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
CHAPTER I.
AT that remarkable period when Louis XVIII. was restored a second time to the throne of his fathers, and
all the English who had money or leisure rushed over
to the Continent, there lived in a certain boarding-house
at Brussels a genteel young widow, who bore the elegant name of Mrs. Wellesley Macarty.
In the same house and room with the widow lived
her mamma, a lady who was called Mrs. Crabb. Both
professed to be rather fashionable people. The Crabbs
were of a very old English stock; and the Macartys
were, as the world knows, county Cork people, related
to the Sheenys, Finnigans, Clancys, and other distinguished families in their part of Ireland. But Ensign
Wellesley Mac, not having a shilling, ran off with Miss
Crabb, who possessed the same independence; and
after having been married about six months to the lady,
was carried off suddenly, on the 18th of June, 1815, by
a disease very prevalent in those glorious times-the
fatal cannon-shot morbus.  He, and many hundred
voung fellows of his regiment, the Clonakilty Fencibles,




10          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
were attacked by this epidemic on the same day, at a
place about ten miles from Brussels, and there perished.
The ensign's lady had accompanied her husband to the
Continent, and about five months after his death brought
into the world two remarkably fine female children.
Mrs. Wellesley's mother had been reconciled to her
daughter by this time,-for, in truth, Mrs. Crabb had
no other child but her runaway Juliana, to whom she
flew when she heard of her destitute condition. And,
indeed, it was high time that some one should come to
the young widow's aid; for as her husband did not
leave money, nor any thing that represented money,
except a number of tailors' and boot-makers' bills,
neatly docketed in his writing-desk, Mrs. Wellesley was
in danger of starvation, should no friendly person assist
her.
Mrs. Crabb, then, came off to her daughter, whom
the Sheenys, Finnigans, and Clancys, refused, with one
scornful voice, to assist.  The fact is, that Mr. Crabb
had once been butler to a lord, and his lady a lady's
maid; and at Crabb's death, Mrs. Crabb disposed of the
Ram hotel and posting-house, where her husband had
made three thousand pounds, and was living in genteel
ease in a country town, when Ensign Macarty came,
saw, and run away with Juliana. Of such a connexion,
it was impossible that the great Clancys and Finnigans
could take notice; and so once more widow Crabb was
compelled to share with her daughter her small income
of a hundred and twenty a-year.
Upon this, at a boarding-house in Brussels, the two
managed to live pretty smartly, and to maintain an
honourable reputation.  The twins were put out, after




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.             11
the foreign fashion, to nurse, at a village in the neighbourhood; for Mrs. Macarty had been too ill to nurse
them; and Mrs. Crabb could not afford to purchase
that most expensive article, a private wet-nurse.
There had been numberless tiffs and quarrels between mother and daughter when the latter was in her
maiden state; and Mrs. Crabb was, to tell the truth, in
nowise sorry when her Jooly disappeared with the ensign,-for the old lady dearly loved a gentleman, and
was not a little flattered at being the mother to Mrs.
Ensign Macarty.  Why the ensign should have run
away with his lady at all, as he might have had her for
the asking, is no business of ours; nor are we going to
rake up old stories and village scandals which insinuate that Miss Crabb ran away with him, for with these
points the writer and the reader have nothing to do.
Well, then, the reconciled mother and daughter
lived once more together, at Brussels. In the course
of a year, Mrs. Macarty's sorrow had much abated; and
having a great natural love of dress, and a tolerably
handsome face and person, she was induced, without
much reluctance, to throw her weeds aside, and to appear in the most becoming and varied costumes which
her means and ingenuity could furnish.  Considering,
indeed, the smallness of the former, it was agreed on all
hands that Mrs. Crabb and her daughter deserved wonderful credit,-that is, they managed to keep up as
respectable an appearance as if they had five hundred
a-year; and at church, at tea-parties, and abroad in the
streets, to be what is called quite the gentlewomen.  If
they starved at home, nobody saw it; if they patched
and pieced, nobody (it was to be hoped) knew it; if




12          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
they bragged about their relations and property, could
any one say them nay? Thus they lived, hanging on
with desperate energy to the skirts of genteel society;
Mrs. Crabb, a sharp woman, rather respected her
daughtei's superior rank; and Mrs. Macarty did not
quarrel so much as heretofore with her mamma, on
whom herself and her two children were entirely dependent.
While affairs were at this juncture, it happened
that a young Englishman, James Gann, Esq., of the
great oil-house of Gann, Blubbery and Gann (as he took
care to tell you before you had been an hour in his company),-it happened, I say, that James Gann, Esq.,
came to Brussels for a month, for the purpose of perfecting himself in the French language; and while in
that capital went to lodge at the very boarding-house
which contained Mrs. Crabb and her daughter. Gann
was young, weak, inflammable; he saw and adored Mrs.
Wellesley Macarty; and she, who was at this period
all but engaged to a stout, old, wooden-legged Scotch
regimental surgeon, pitilessly sent Dr. M'Lint about his
business, and accepted the addresses of Mr. Gann. How
the young man arranged matters with his papa, the
senior partner, I don't know; but it is certain that
there was a quarrel, and afterwards a reconciliation;
and it is also known that James Gann fought a duel
with the surgeon —receiving the AEsculapian fire, and
discharging his own bullet into the azure skies. About
nine thousand times, in the course of his after-years,
did Mr. Gann narrate the history of the combat; it enabled him to go through life with the reputation of a
man of couraoe, and won for him, as he said with pride,




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           13
the hand of his Juliana: perhaps this was rather a
questionable benefit.
One part of the tale, however, honest James never
did dare to tell, except when peculiarly excited by
wrath or liquor; it was this: that on the day after the
wedding, and in the presence of many friends who had
come to offer their congratulations, a stout nurse, bearing a brace of chubby little ones, made her appearance;
and these rosy urchins, springing forward at the sight
of Mr. James Gann, shouted, affectionately, " Maman!
M'aman!" at which the lady, blushing rosy red, said,
"James, these two are yours;" and poor James well
nigh fainted at this sudden paternity so put upon him.
"Children!' screamed he, aghast; "whose children a"
at which Mrs. Crabb, majestically checking him said,
"These, my dear James, are the daughters of the gallant and good Ensign Macarty, whose widow you
yesterday led to the altar. May you be happy with
her, and may these blessed children (tears) find in you
a father, who shall replace him that fell in the field of
glory!"
Mrs. Crabb, Mrs. James Gann, Mrs. Major Lolly,
Mrs. Piffler, and several ladies present, set up a sob
immediately; and James Gann, a good-humoured, softhearted man, was quite taken aback. Kissing his lady
hurriedly, he vowed that he would take care of the
poor little things; and proposed to kiss them likewise;
which caress the darlings refused with many roars.
Gann's fate was sealed from  that minute; and he was
properly henpecked by his wife and mother-in-law
during the life of the latter. Indeed, it was to Mrs.
Crabb that the stratagein of the infant concealment was




14         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
due; for when her daughter innocently proposed to
have or to see the children, the old lady strongly pointed out the folly of such an arrangement, which might,
perhaps, frighten away Mr. Gann from the delightful
matrimonial trap into which (lucky rogue!) he was
about to fall. 
Soon after the marriage, the happy pair returned to
England, occupying the house in Thames Street, city,
until the death of Gann, senior; when his son, becoming head of the firm of Gann and Blubbery, quitted the
dismal precincts of Billingsgate and colonised in the
neighbourhood of Putney; where a neat box, a couple
of spare bed-rooms, a good cellar, and a smart gig to
drive into and out from town, made a real gentleman
of him. Mrs. Gann treated him with much scorn, to
be sure, called him a sot, and abused hugely the male
companions that he brought down with him to Putney.
Honest James would listen meekly, would yield, and
would bring down a brace more friends the next day,
with whom he would discuss his accustomed number of
bottles of port. About this period, a daughter was born
to him, called Caroline Brandenburg Gann; so named
after a large yellow mansion near Hammersmith, and
an injured queen who lived there at the time of the
little girl's birth, and who was greatly compassioned
and patronised by Mrs. James Gann, and other ladies
of distinction. Mrs. James was a lady in those days,
and gave evening parties of the very first order.
At this period of time, Mrs. James Gann sent the
twins, Rosalind Clancy and Isabella Finnigan Wellesley Macarty, to a boarding-school for young ladies, and
grumbled much at the amount of the half-year's bill




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           15
which her husband was called upon to pay for them; for
though James discharged them  with perfect good h-umour, his lady began to entertain a mean opinion indeed of her pretty young children. They could expect
no fortune, she said, from Mr. Gann, and she wondered
that he should think of bringing them up expensively,
when he had a darling child of his own, for whom he
was bound to save all the money that he could lay by.
Grandmamma, too, doted on the little Caroline
Brandenburgh, and vowed that she would leave her
three thousand pounds to this dear infant; for in this
way does the world show its respect for that most respectable thing prosperity. Who in this life get the
smiles, and the acts of friendship, and the pleasing legacies?-The rich. And I do, for my part, heartily wish
that some one would leave me a trifle-say twenty
thousand pounds-being perfectly confident that some
one else would leave me more; and that I should sink
into my grave worth a plum at least.
Little Caroline then had her maid, her airy nursery,
her little carriage to drive in, the promise of her grandmamma's consols, and that priceless treasure —her
mamma's undivided affection. Gann, too, loved her
sincerely, in his careless, good-humoured way; but he
determined, notwithstanding, that his step-daughters
should have something handsome at his death, butbut for a great Bur.
Gann and Blubbery were in the oil line,-have we
not said so?  Their profits arose from contracts for
lighting a great number of streets in London; and
about this period GAS came into use. Gann and Blubbery appeared in the Gazette; and, I am sorry to say,




16          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
so bad had been the management of Blubbery,-so
great the extravagance of both partners and their ladies,-that they only paid their creditors fourteen pence
halfpenny in the pound.
When Mrs. Crabb heard of this dreadful accidentMrs. Crabb, who dined thrice a-week with her son-inlaw; who never would have been allowed to enter the
house at all had not honest James interposed his good
nature between her quarrelsome daughter and herselfMrs. Crabb, I say, proclaimed James Gann to be a
swindler, a villain, a disreputable, tipsy, vulgar man,
and made over her money to the Misses Rosalind Clancy and Isabella Sheeny Macarty; leaving poor little
Caroline without one single maravedi. Half of 1500
pounds allotted to each was to be paid at marriage, the
other half on the death of Mrs. James Gann, who was
to enjoy the interest thereof. Thus do we rise and fall
in this world-thus does Fortune shake her swift wings,
and bid us abruptly to resign the gifts (or rather loans)
which we have had from her.
How Gann and his family lived after their stroke of
misfortune, I know not; but as the failing tradesman is
going through the process of bankruptcy, and for some
months afterwards, it may be remarked, that he has
usually some mysterious means of subsistence-stray
spars of the wreck of his property, on which he manages to seize, and to float for a while. During his retirement, in an obscure lodging in Lambeth, where the
poor fellow was so tormented by his wife as to be compelled to fly to the public-house for refuge, Mrs. Crabb
died; a hundred a-year thus came into the possession
of Mrs. Gann; and some of James's friends, who




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           17
thought him a good fellow in his prosperity, came forward, and furnished a house, in which they placed him,
and came to see and comfort him. Then they came to
see him not quite so often; then they found out that
Mrs. Gann was a sad tyrant, and a silly woman; then
the ladies declared her to be insupportable, and Gannr
to be a low, tipsy fellow: and the gentlemen could but
shake their heads, and admit that the charge was true.
Then they left off coming to see him altogether; for
such is the way of the world, where many of us have
good impulses, and are generous on an occasion, but
are wearied by perpetual want, and begin to grow angry at its importunities-being very properly vexed at
the daily recurrence of hunger, and the impudent unreasonableness of starvation. Gann, then, had a genteel wife and children, a furnished house, and a hundred pounds a-year. How should he live? The wife
of James Gann, Esq., would never allow him to demean
himself by taking a clerk's place; and James himself,
being as idle a fellow as ever was known, was fain to
acquiesce in this determination of hers, and to wait for
some more genteel employment. And a curious list of
such genteel employments might be made out, were
one inclined to follow this interesting subject far; shabby compromises with the world, into which poor fellows enter, and still fondly talk of their " position," and
strive to imagine that they are really working for their
bread.
Numberless lodging-houses are kept by the females of families who have met with reverses: are not
"boarding-houses, with a select musical society, in the
neighbourhood of the squares," maintained by such?




18          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
Do not the gentlemen of the boarding-houses issue
forth every morning to the city, or make-believe to go
thither, on some mysterious business which they have?
After a certain period, Mrs. James Gann kept a lodging-house (in her own words, received "two inmates
into her family"), and Mr. Gann had his mysterious
business.
In the year 1835, when this story begins, there
stood in a certain back street in the town of Margate a
house, on the door of which might be read in gleaming
brass the name of Mr. GANN. It was the work of a
single smutty servant-maid to clean this brass plate
every morning, and to attend as far as possible to the
wants of Mr. Gann, his family, and lodgers; and his
house being not very far from the- sea, and as you
might, by climbing up to the roof, get a sight between
two chimneys of that multitudinous element, Mrs. Gann
set down her lodgings as fashionable; and declared on
her cards that her house commanded "a fine view of
the sea."
On the wire window-blind of the parlour was written, in large characters, the word OFFICE; and here it
was that Gann's services came into play. He was very
much changed, poor fellow! and humbled; and from
two cards that hung outside the blind, I am led to believe that he did not disdain to be agent to the "' London and Jamaica Ginger-Beer Company," and also for
a certain preparation called "Gaster's Infants' Farinacio,
or Mothers' Invigorating Substitute," —a damp, black,
mouldy, half-pound - packet of which stood in permanence at one end of the " office" mantelpiece; while a
fly-blown ginger-beer bottle occupied the other extremi



A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           19
ty. Nothing else indicated that this ground-floor chamber was an office, except a huge black inkstand, in
which stood a stumpy pen, richly crusted with ink at
the nib, and to all appearance for many months enjoying a sinecure.
To this room you saw every day, at two o clock,
the employe from the neighbouring hotel bring two
quarts of beer; and if you called at that hour, a tremendous smoke, and smell of dinner, would gush out
upon you from the "office," as you stumbled over sundry battered tin dish-covers, which lay gaping at the
-threshold. Thus had that great bulwark of gentility,
the dining at six o'clock, been broken in; and the
reader must therefore judge that the house of Gann
was in a demoralised state.
Gann certainly was. After the ladies had retired to
the back parlour (which, with yellow gauze round the
frames, window-curtains, a red silk cabinet piano, and
an album, was still tolerably genteel), Gann remained,
to-transact business in the office. This took place in
the presence of friends, and usually consisted in the production of a bottle of gin from the corner-cupboard, or,
mayhap, a litre of brandy, which was given by Gann
with a knowing wink, and a fat finger placed on a
twinkling red nose: when Mrs. G. was out, James
would also produce a number of pipes, that gave this
room a constant and agreeable odour of shag-tobacco.
In fact, Mir. Gann had nothing to do from morn
ing till night. He was now a fat, bald-headed man, of
fifty; a dirty dandy on week-days, with a shawl waistcoat, a tuft of hair to his great double chin; a snuffy
shirt-frill, a nd enormous brleast-pin and seals: he had a




20          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
pilot-coat, with large mother-of-pearl buttons, and always wore a great rattling telescope, with which he
might be seen for hours on the sea-shore or the pier,
examining the ships, the bathing machines, the ladies'
schools as they paraded up and down the Esplanade,
and all other objects which the telescopic view might
give him. He knew every person connected with every
one of the Deal and Dover coaches, and was sure to be
witness to the arrival or departure of several of them ik
the course of the day; he had a word for the hostler
about "that grey mare," a nod for the "shooter" or
guard, and a bow for the dragsman; he could send
parcels for nothing up to town; had twice had Sir Rumble Tumble (the noble driver of the Flash-o'-lightninglight-four-inside-post-coach) "up at his place," and took
care to tell you that some of the party were pretty considerably "sewn up," too. He did not frequent the
large hotels; but in revenge he knew every person who
entered or left them; and was a great man at the Bag
of Nails and the Magpie and Punchbowl, where he was
president of a club; he took the bass in " Mynheer Van
Dunk," "the Wolf," and many other morsels of concerted song, and used to go backwards and forwards to
London in the steamers as often as ever he liked, and
have his "grub," too, on board. Such was James
Gann. Many people, when they wrote to him, addressed him James Gann, Esq.
His reverses and former splendours. afforded a neverfailing theme of conversation to honest Gann and the
whole of his family; and it may be remarked, that such
pecuniary misfortunes, as they are called, are by no
lefans Inisfortunes to people of certain disp.ositions, but




A SHABBY GENTEEL ST'1'ORY.        21
actual pieces of good luck. Gann, for instance, used to
drink liberally of port and claret, when the house of
Gann and Blubbery was in existence, and was henceforth compelled to imbibe only brandy and gin. Now
he loved these a thousand times more than the wine;
and had the advantage of talking about the latter, and
of his great merit in giving them up. In those prosperous days, too, being a gentleman, he could not frequent the public-house as he did at present; and the
sanded tavern-parlour was Gann's supreme enjoyment.
He was obliged to spend many hours daily in a dark
unsavoury room in an alley off Thames Street; and
Gann hated books and business, except of other people's. His tastes were low; he loved public-house
jokes and company; and now being fallen, was voted
at the Bag of Nails and the Magpie before-mentioned a
tip-top fellow and real gentleman, whereas he had been
considered an ordinary vulgar man by his fashionable
associates at Putney. Many men are there who' are
made to fall, and to }profit by the tumble.
As for Mrs. G., or Jooly as she was indifferently
called by her husband, she, too, had gained by her
losses. She bragged of her former acquaintances in the
most extraordinary way, and to hear her you would
fancy that she was known and connected to half the
peerage. Her chief occupation was taking medicine,
and mending and altering of her gowns. She had a
huge taste for cheap finery, loved raffles, tea-parties, and
walks on the pier, where she flaunted herself and
daughters as gay as butterflies. She stood upon her
rank, did not fail to tell her lodgers that she was "a
gentlewoman," and was mighty sharp with Becky the
maid, and poor Carry, her youngest child.




22          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
For the tide of affection had turned now, and the
"Misses Wellesley Macarty" were the darlings of their
mother's heart, as Caroline had been in the early days
of Putney prosperity. Mrs. Gann respected and loved
her elder daughters, the stately heiresses of fifteen hundred pounds, and scorned poor Caroline, who was likewise scorned (like Cinderella in the sweetest of all stories) by her brace of haughty, thoughtless sisters.
These young women were tall, well-grown, blackbrowed girls, little scrupulous, fond of fun, and having
great health and spirits. Caroline was pale and thin,
and had fair hair and meek grey eyes; nobody thought
her a beauty in her moping cotton gown; whereas the
sisters, in flaunting printed muslins, with pink scarfs,
and artificial flowers, and brass ferronieres and other
fallals, were voted very charming and genteel by the
Ganns' circle of friends. They had pink cheeks, white
shoulders, and many glossy curls stuck about their
shining foreheads, as damp and as black as leeches.
Such charms, madam, cannot fail of having their effect;
and it was very lucky for Caroline that she did not
possess them, for she might have been rendered as vain,
frivolous, and vulgar, as these young ladies were.
While these enjoyed their pleasures and tea-parties
abroad, it was Carry's usual fate to remain at home, and
help the servant in the many duties which were required
in Mrs. Gann's establishment.  She dressed that lady
and her sisters, brought her papa his tea in bed, kept
the lodgers' bells, bore their scoldings, if they were ladies, and sometimes gave a hand in the kitchen if any
extra pie-crust or cookery was required. At two she
made a little toilet for dinner, and was employed on




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           23
numberless household darnings and mending in the long
evenings, while her sisters giggled over the jingling
piano, mamma sprawled on the sofa, and Gann was
over his glass at the club. A weary lot, in sooth, was
yours, poor little Caroline! since the days of your infancy, not one hour of sunshine, no friendship, no cheery
play-fellows, no mother's love; but that being dead, the
affections which would have crept round it, withered
and died too. Only James Gann, of all the household,
had a good-natured look for her, and a coarse word of
kindness; nor, indeed, did Caroline complain, nor shed
many tears, nor call for death, as she would if she had
been brought up in genteeler circles. The poor thing
did not know her own situation; her misery was dumb
and patient; it is such as thousands and thousands of
women in our society bear, and pine, and die of; made
up of sums of small tyrannies, and long indifference,
and bitter wearisome injustice, more dreadful to bear
than any tortures that we of the stronger sex are pleased
to cry AT! At! about. In our intercourse with the
world (which is conducted with that kind of cordiality
that we see in Sir Harry and my lady in a comedy —a
couple of painted, grinning fools, talking parts that they
have learned out of a book); as we sit and look at the
smiling actors, we get a glimpse behind the scenes, from
time to time, and alas for the wretched nature that appears there!-among women especially, who deceive
even more than men, having more to hide, feeling
more, living more than we who have our business,
pleasure, ambition, which carries us abroad. Ours are
the great strokes of misfortune, as they are called, and
theirs the small miseries. While the male thinks, la



24          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
bours, and battles without, the domestic woes and
wrongs are the lot of the women; and the little ills are
to bad, so infinitely fiercer and bitterer than the great,
that I would not change my condition-no, not to be
-Helen, Queen Elizabeth, Mrs. Coutts, or the luckiest she
in history.
Well, then, in the manner we have described lived
the Gann family. Mr. Gann all the better for his " misfortunes," Mrs. Gann little the worse; the two young
ladies greatly improved by the circumstance, having
been cast thereby into a society where their expected
two thousand pounds made great heiresses of them;
and poor Caroline, as luckless a being as any that the
wide sun shone upon. Better to be alone in the world
and utterly friendless, than to have sham friends and no
sympathy; ties of kindred which bind one as it were to
the corpse of relationship, and oblige one to bear
through life the weight and the embraces of this lifeless,
cold connexion.
I do not mean to say that Caroline would ever have
made use of this metaphor, or suspected that her connexion with her mamma and sisters was any thing so
loathsome. She only felt that she was ill-treated, and
had no companion; but was not on that account envious, only humble and depressed, not desiring so much
to resist as to bear injustice, and hardly venturing to
think for herself. This tyranny and humility served
her in place of education, and formed her manners,
which were wonderfully gentle and calm. It was
strange to see such a person growing up in such a family; the neighbours spoke of her with much scornful
compassion. "A poor half-witted thing," they said,




A SHABBY GENTEEL STOItY.          25
"who could not say bo to a goose;" and I think it is
one good test of gentility to be thus looked down on by
vulgar people.
It is not to be supposed that the elder girls had
reached their present age without receiving a number
of offers of marriage, and being warmly in love a great
many times. But many unfortunate occurrences had
compelled them  to remain in their virgin condition.
There was an attorney who had proposed to Rosalind;
but finding that she would receive only T501. down, instead of 15001., the monster had jilted her pitilessly,
handsome as she was. An apothecary, too, had been
smitten by her charms; but to live in a shop was beneath the dignity of a Wellesley-Macarty, and she
waited for better things. Lieutenant Swabber of the
coast-guard service, had lodged two months at Gann's;
and if letters, long walks, and town-talk could settle a
match, a match between him and Isabella must have
taken place. Well, Isabella was not married; and the
lieutenant, a colonel in Spain, seemed to have given up
all thoughts of her. She meanwhile consoled herself
with a gay young wine-merchant, who had lately established himself at Brighton, kept a gig, rode out with
the hounds, and was voted perfectly genteel; and there
was a certain French marquess, with the most elegant
black mustachios, who had made a vast impression upon the heart of Rosalind, having met her first at the
circulating library, and afterwards, by the most extraordinary series of chances, coming upon her and her sister
daily in their walks upon the pier.
Meek little Caroline, meanwhile, trampled upon
though she was, was springing up to womanhood; and




26          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
though pale, freckled, thin, meanly dressed, had a certain charm about her which some people might prefer
to the cheap splendours and rude red and white of the
Misses Macarty. In fact we have now come to a period
of her history when, to the amaze of her mamma and
sisters, and not a little to the satisfaction of James
Gann, Esquire, she actually inspired a passion in the
breast of a very respectable young man.
CHAPTER IH.
HOw MRS. GANN RECEIVED TWO LODGERS.
IT was the winter season when the events recorded
in this history occurred; and as at that period not one
out of a thousand lodging-houses in Margate are let,
Mrs. Gann, who generally submitted to occupy her own
first and second floors during this cheerless season, considered herself more than ordinarily lucky when circumstances occurred which brought no less than two lodgers to her establishment.
She had to thank her daughters for the first inmate; for, as these two young ladies were walking one
day down their own street, talking of the joys of the
last season, and the delight of the raffles and singing
at the libraries, and the intoxicating pleasures of the
Vauxhall balls, they were remarked and evidently admired by a young gentleman who was sauntering listlessly up the street.
He stared, and it must be confessed that the fasci



A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           27
nating girls stared too, and put each other's head into
each other's bonnet, and giggled and said, " Lor!" and
then looked hard at the young gentleman again. Their
eyes were black, their cheeks were very red. Fancy
how Miss Bella's and Miss Linda's hearts beat when the
gentleman, dropping his glass out of his eye, actually
stepped across the street, and said, "Ladies, I am seeking for lodgings, and should be glad to look at those
which I see are to let in your house."
"How did the conjurer know it was our house?"
thought Bella and Linda (they always thought in
couples),-fiom the very simple fact that Miss Bella
had just thrust into the door a latch-key.
Most bitterly did Mrs. James Gann regret that she
had not on her best gown when a stranger-a stranger
in Februalry-actually called to look at the lodgings.
She made up, however, for the slovenliness of her dress
by the dignity of her demeanour; and asked the gentleman for references, informed him that she was a gentlewoman, and that he would have peculiar advantages
in her establishment; and, finally, agreed to receive
him  at the rate of twenty shillings per week. The
bright. eyes of the young ladies had done the business;
but to this day Mrs. James Gann is convinced that her
peculiar dignity of manner, and great fluency of brag
regarding her family, have been the means of bringing
hundreds of lodgers to her house, who but for her
would never have visited it.
"Gents," said Mr. James Gann at the Bag of Nails
that very evening, "we have got a new lodger, and I'll
stand glasses round to his jolly good health!"
The new lodger, who was remarkable for nothing




28          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
except very black eyes, a sallow face, and a habit of
smoking segars in bed until noon, gave his name
George Brandon, Esq. As to his temper and habits,
when humbly requested by Mrs. Gann to pay in advance, he laughed and presented her with a bank-note,
never quarrelled with a single item in her bills, walked
much, and ate two mutton-chops per diem. The young
ladies, who examined all the boxes and letters of the
lodgers, as young ladies will, could not find one single
document relative to their new inmate, except a tavernbill of the Albion, to which the name of George Brandon, Esquire, was prefixed.  Any other papers which
might elucidate his history, were locked up in a Bramah
box, likewise marked G. B.; and though these were
but unsatisfactory points by which to judge a man's
character, there was a something about Mr. Brandon
which caused all the ladies at Mrs. Gann's to vote he
was quite a gentleman.
When this was the case, I am happy to say it
would not unfrequently happen that Miss Rosalind or.Miss Isabella would appear in the lodger's apartments,
bearing in the breakfast-cloth, or blushingly appearing
with the weekly bill, apologising for mamma's absence,
"and hoping that every thing was to the gentleman's
liking."
Both the Misses Wellesley Macarty took occasion
to visit Mr. Brandon in this manner; and he received
both with such a fascinating ease and gentlemanlike
fieedom of manner, scanning their points from head to
foot, and fixing his great black eyes so earnestly in
their faces, that the blushing creatures turned away
abashed, and yet pleased, and had many conversations
about him.




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.            29
"Law, Bell," said Miss Rosalind, "what a chap
that Brandon is! I don't half like him, I do declare!'"
Than which there can be no greater compliment from a
woman to a man.
"No more do I neither," says Bell. "The man
stares so, and says such things! Just now, when Becky
brought his paper and sealing-wax-the silly girl
brought black and red too-I took them up to ask
which he would have, and what do you think he
said?"
" Well, dear, what!" said Mrs. Gann.
" Miss Bell," says he, looking at me, and with such
eyes!  "I'll keep every thing: the red wax, because
it's like your lips; the black wax, because it's like your
hail; and the satin paper, because it's like your skin i
Wasn't it genteel l"
"Law, now!" exclaimed Mrs. Gann.
" Upon my word, I think it's very rude!" said Miss
Lindy; "and if he'd have said so to me, I'd have
slapped his face for his imperence!" And much to her
credit, Miss Lindy went to his room ten'minutes after
to see if he would say any thing to her. What Mr.
Brandon said, I never knew; but the little pang of
envy which had caused Miss Lindy to retort sharply
upon her sister, had given place to a pleased good-humour, and she allowed Bella to talk about the new
lodger as much as ever she liked.
And now if the reader is anxious to know what
was Mr. Brandon's character, he had better read the
following letter from him.  It was addressed to no less
a person than a viscount; and given, perhaps, with
some little ostentation to Becky, the maid, to carry to the




30            A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
post.  Now  Becky, before she executed such errands,
always showed the letters to her mistress or one of the
young ladies (it must not be supposed that Miss Caroline was a whit less curious on these matters than her
sisters); and when the family beheld the name of Lord
Viscount Cinqbars upon the superscription, their respect
for their lodger was greater than ever it had been:MARGATE, January 1835.
"MY DEAR VISCOUNT,-For a reason I have, on coming
down to Margate, I with much gravity informed the people of
the White Hart that my name was Brandon, and intend to bear
that honourable appellation during my stay. For the same
reason (I am a modest man, dear Simon, and love to do good
in secret), I left the public hotel immediately, and am now
housed in private lodgings, humble, and at a humble price. I
am here, thank Heaven, quite alone. Robinson Crusoe had as
much society in his island, as I in this of Thanet.  In compensation I sleep a great deal, do nothing, and walk much, silent, by the side of the roaring sea, like Calchas, priest of
Apollo.
"The fact is, that until papa's wrath is appeased, I must live
with the utmost meekness and humility, and have barely enough
money in my possession to pay such small current expenses as
fall on me here, where strangers are many and credit does
not exist.  I pray you, therefore, to tell Mr. Snipson the
tailor, Mr. Jackson the bootmaker, honest Solomonson the
discounter of bills, and all such friends in London and Oxford as may make inquiries after me, that I am at this very
moment at the city of Munich in Bavaria, fiom which I shall
not return until my marriage with Miss Goldmore, the great
Indian heiress; who, upon my honour, will have me, I believe,
any day for the asking.
" Nothing else will satisfy my honoured father I know, whose
purse has already bled pretty freely for me, I must confess, and
who has taken the great oath that never is broken, to bleed no
more unless this marriage is brought about. Come it must. I




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.                  31
can't work, I can't starve, and I can't live under a thousand ayear.
"Here, to hbe sure, the charges are not enormous; for your
edification read my week's bill:-' George Brandon, Esquire,'To Mrs. James Gann.
~.  s.  d.
A week's lodging...........       1   0   0
Breakfast, cream, eggs........   9   0
Dinner (fourteen mutton-chops).... 0  10   6
Fire, boot-cleaning, &c.          0   3   6
~2   3   0'Settled, Juliana Gann.'
"Juliana Gann! Is it not a sweet name? it sprawls over
half the paper. Could you but see the owner of the name, my
dear fellow! I love to examine the customs of natives of all
countries, and upon my word there are some barbarians in our
own; less known, and more worthy of being known, than Hottentots, wild Irish, Otaheiteans, or any such savages. If you
could see the airs that this woman gives herself; the rouge,
ribands, rings, and other female gimcracks that she wears; if
you could hear her reminiscences of past times,' when she and
Mr. Gann moved in the very genteelest circles of society;' of the
peerage, which she knows by heart; and of the fashionable
novels, in every word of which she believes, you would be
proud of your order, and admire the intense respect which the
casnaille show towards it. There never was such an old woman, not even our tutor at Christchurch.
" There is a he Gann, a vast, bloated old man, in a rough
coat, who has met me once, and asked me, with a grin, if my mutton-chops was to my liking? The satirical monster I What can
I eat in this place but mutton-chops?  A great bleeding beefsteak, or a filthy, reeking gigot a l'eau, with a turnip poultice?
I should die if I did. As for fish in a watering-place, I never




32            A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
touch it; it is sure to be bad. Nor care I for little, sinewy, dry,
black-legged fowls. Cutlets are my only resource, I have them
nicely enough broiled by a little humble companion of the family (a companion, ye gods, in this family 1), who blushed hugely
when she confessed that the cooking was hers, and that her
name was Caroline. For drink I indulge in gin, of which I consume two wine glasses daily, in two tumblers of cold water; it
is the only liquor that one can be sure to fine genuine in a common house in England.
"This Gann, I take it, has similar likings, for I hear him oc
casionally at midnight floundering up the stairs (his boots lie
dirty in the passage)-floundering, I say, up the stairs, and
cursing the candlestick, whence escape now and anon the snuffers and extinguisher, and with brazen rattle disturb the silence
of the night. Thrice a-week, at least, does Gann breakfast in
bed-sure sign of pridian intoxication; and thrice a-week, in the
morning, I hear a hoarse voice roaring for'my soda-water.'
How long have the rogues drunk soda-water a
"At nine, Mrs. Gann and daughters are accustomed to breakfast; a handsome pair of girls, truly, and much followed, as I
hear, in the quarter. These dear creatures are always paying
me visits-visits with the tea-kettle, visits with the newspaper
(one brings it, and one comes for it); but the one is always at
the other's heels, and so one cannot show oneself to be that dear,
gay seducing fellow that one has been, at home'and on the
Continent. Do you remember cette chere marquise at Pau?
That cursed conjugal pistol-bullet still plays the deuce with my
shoulder. Do you remember Betty Bundy, the butcher's daughter? A pretty race of fools are we to go mad after such women, and risk all-oaths, prayers, promises, long wearisome
courtships-for what? for vanity, truly. When the battle is
over, behold your conquest! Betty Bundy is a vulgar country
wench; and cette belle marquise is old, rouged, and has false
hair.  F'anitas, vcanitatun! what a moral man I will be some
day or other!
" I have found an old acquaintance (and be hanged to him!),
who has come to lodge in this very house. Do you recollect at
Some a young artist, Fitch by name, the handsome gaby with




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.                33
the large beard, that mad Mrs. Carrickfergus was doubly mad
about? On the second floor of Mrs. Gann's house dwells this
youth. His beard brings the gamrins of the streets trooping and
yelling about him; his fine braided coats have grown somewhat
shabby now; and the poor fellow is, like your humble servant
(by the way, have you a 500 franc billet to spare ) —like your
humble servant, I say, very low in pocket. The young Andrea
bears up gaily, however; twangles the guitar, paints the worst
pictures in the world, and pens sonnets to his imaginary mistress's eyebrow. Luckily the rogue did not know my name, or
I should have been compelled to unbosom to him; and when I
called out to him, dubious as to my name,' Don't you know me t
I met you in Rome. My name is Brandon,' the painter was perfectly satisfied, and majestically bade me welcome.
" Fancy the continence of this young Joseph —le has absolutely run away from Mrs. Carrickfergus!'Sir,' said he, with
some hesitation and blushes, when I questioned him about the
widow,' I was compelled to leave Rome in consequence of the
fatal fondness of that woman. I am an'andsome man, sir-I
know it-all the chaps in the Academy want me for a model;
and that woman, sir, is sixty. Do you think I would ally myself with her; sacrifice my happiness for the sake of a creature
that's as hugly as an'arpy? I'd rather starve, sir. I'd rather
give up my hart. and my'opes of rising in it, than do a haction
so dishhhhonorable.'
" There is a stock of virtue for you! and the poor fellow halfstarved. He lived at Rome upon the seven portraits that the
Carrickfergus ordered of him, and, as I fancy, now does not make
twenty pounds in the year. O rare chastity!  O wondrous
silly hopes! 0 motus animorum, atque 0 certamina tanta!-pulveris exigui jactu, in such an insignificant little lump of mud as
this! Why the deuce does not the fool marry the widow?
His betters would. There was a captain of dragoons, an Italian
prince, and four sons of Irish peers, all at her feet; but the
Cockney's beard and whiskers have overcome them all. Here
my paper has come to an end; and I have the honour to bid your
lordship a respectful farewell.
"G. B."
2*




34          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
Of the young gentleman who goes by the name of
Brandon the reader of the above letter will not be so
misguided, we trust, as to have a very exalted opinion.
The noble viscount read this document to a supper party ill Christchurch, in Oxford, and left it in a bowl of
milk-punch; whence a scout abstracted it, and handed
it over to us. My lord was twenty years of age when
he received the epistle; and had spent a couple of years
abroad, before going to the university, under the guardianship of the worthy individual who called himself
George Brandon.
Mr. Brandon was the son of a half-pay colonel, of
good family, who, honouring the great himself, thought
his son would vastly benefit by an acquaintance with
them, and sent him to Eton, at cruel charges upon a slender purse. From Eton the lad went to Oxford, took honours there, frequented the best society, followed with a
kind of proud obsequiousness all the tufts of the university, and left it owing exactly two thousand pounds.
Then there came storms at home; fury on the part of
the stern old "governor;" and final payments of the
debt. But while this settlement was pending, Master
George had contracted many more debts among billdiscounters, and was glad to fly to the Continent as tutor to young Lord Cinqbars, in whose company. he
learned every one of the vices in Europe; and having
a good natural genius, and a heart not unkindly, had
used these qualities in such an admirable manner as to
be at twenty-seven utterly ruined in purse and principle
-an idler, a spendthrift, and a glutton. He was firee of
ius money; -would spend his last guinea for a sensual
-ratification; would borrow from his neediest friend;




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           35
had no kind of conscience or remorse left, but believed
himself to be a good-natured devil-may-care fellow; had
a good deal of wit, and indisputably good manners, and
a pleasing, dashing frankness, in conversation with
men. I should like to know how many such scoundrels our universities have turned out; and how much
ruin has been caused by that accursed system, which is
called in England "' the education of a gentleman." Go,
my son, for ten years to a public school, that " world in
miniature;" learn "to fight for yourself" against the
time when your real struggles shall begin. Begin to be
selfish at ten years of age; study for other ten years;
get a competent knowledge of boxing, swimming, rowing, and cricket, with a pretty knack of Latin hexameters, and a decent smattering of Greek plays,-do this
and a fond father shall bless you-bless the two thousand pounds which he has spent in acquiring all these
benefits for you. And, besides, what else have you not
learned! You nave been many hundreds of times to
chapel, and have learned to consider the religious service performed there as the vainest parade in the world.
If your father is a grocer, you have been beaten for his
sake, and have learned to be ashamed of him. You
have learned to forget (as how should you remember,
being separated from them for three-fourths of your
time?) the ties and natural affections of home. You
have learned, if you have a kindly heart and an open
hand, to compete with associates much more wealthy
than yourself; and to consider money as not much, but
honour-the honour of dining and consorting with your
betters-as a great deal. All this does the publicschool and college-boy learn; and wo be to his know



36           A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
ledge!  Alas, what natural tenderness and kindlyclinging filial affection is he taught to trample on and
despise! My friend Brandon had gone through this
process of education, and had been irretrievably ruined
by it-his heart and his honesty had been ruined by it,
that is to say;* and he had received, in return for them,
a small quantity of classics and mathematics-pretty
compensation for all he had lost in gaining them!
_But I am wandering most absurdly from the point;
right or wrong, so nature and education had formed
Mr. Brandon, who is one of a considerable class. Well,
this young gentleman was established at Mrs. Gann's
house; and we are obliged to enter into all these explanations concerning him, because they are necessary
to the right understanding of our story —Brandon not
being altogether a bad man, nor much worse than
many a one who goes through a course of regular
selfish swindling all his life long, and dies religious, resigned, proud of himself, and universa. ly respected by
others: for this eminent advantage has the getting-andkeeping scoundrel over the extravagant and careless
one.
One day, then, as he was gazing fromnthe window
of his lodging-house, a cart, containing a vast number
* What does the author mean? We must take leave to tell
him thatthis is the silliest sentimentality in the world. If he means
that a boy at a public school might learn more than Homer and
Euclid, we agree with him; and if he would insinuate that a lad
at a university may be led into temptations and excesses which
may ruin his family and the whole prospects of his future life,
we agree with him too. But all this is his own fault; he will
learn to be cautious afterwards.




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           37
of easels, portfolios, wooden-cases of pictures, and a
small carpet-bag that might hold a change of clothes,
stopped at the door. The vehicle was accompanied by
a remarkable young fellow, dressed in a frock-coat covered over with frogs, a dirty turned-down shirt-collar.
with a blue satin cravat, and a cap placed wonderfully
on one ear, who had evidently hired apartments at Mr.
Gann's. This new lodger was no other than Mr. Andrew Fitch; or, as he wrote on his cards, without the
prefix,
ANDREA FITCIH.
Preparations had been made at Gann's for the reception of Mr. Fitch, whose aunt (an auctioneer's lady
in the town) had made arrangements that he should
board and lodge with the Gann family, and have the
apartments on the second floor as his private rooms.
In these, then, young Andrea was installed. He was a
youth of a poetic temperament, loving solitude; and
where is such to be found more easily than on the
storm-washed shores of Margate in winter? Then the
boarding-house keepers have shut up their houses, and
gone away in anguish; then the taverns take their carpets up, and you can have your choice of a hundred
and twenty beds in any one of them; then but one
dismal waiter remains to superintend this vast echoing
pile of loneliness, and the landlord pines for summer;
then the flies for Ramsgate stand tenantless beside the
pier; and about four sailors, in pea-jackets, are to be




38          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
seen in the three principal streets; in the rest, silence,
silence, closed shutters, torpid chimneys, enjoying their
unnatural winter sinecure-not the clack of a patten
echoing over the cold dry flags!
This solitude had been chosen by Mr. Brandon for
good reasons of his own; Gann and his family would
have fled, but that they had no other house wherein
to take refuge; and Mrs. Hammerton, the auctioneer's
lady, felt so keenly the kindness which she was doing
to Mrs. Gann, in providing her with a lodger at such a
period, that she considered herself fully justified in extracting from the latter a bonus of two guineas, threatening on refusal to send her darling nephew to a rival
establishment over the way.
Andrea was here, then, in the loneliness that he
loved,-a fantastic youth, who lived but for his art; to
whom the world was like the Coburg Theatre, and he
in a magnificent costume acting a principal part. His
art, and his beard and whiskers, were the darlings of
his heart. His long pale hair fell over a high polished
brow, which looked wonderfully thoughtful; and yet
no man was more guiltless of thinking. He was always putting himself into attitudes; he never spoke
the truth; and was so entirely affected and absurd, as
to be quite honest at last: for it is my belief that the
man did not know truth from falsehood any longer, and
was when he was alone, when he was in company, nay,
when he was unconscious and sound asleep snoring ill
bed, one complete lump of affectation.  When his
apartments on the second floor were arranged according to his fancy, they made a tremendous show. He
had a large Gothic chest, in which he put his wardrobe




A SHABBY GCENTEEL STORY.            39
(namely, two velvet waistcoats, four varied satin under
ditto, two pairs braided trousers, two shirts, half-a-dozen
false collars, and a couple of pairs of dreadfully dil'apidated Blucher boots).  He had some pieces of armour;
some China jugs and Venetian glasses; some bits of
old damask rags, to drape his doors and windows; and
a rickety lay-figure, in a Spanish hat and cloak, over
which slung a long Toledo rapier, and a guitar, with a
riband of dirty skyblue.
Such was our poor fellow's stock in trade. He had
some volumes of poems-Lalla Rookh, and the sterner
compositions of Byron: for, to do him justice, he hated
Don Juan, and a woman was in his eyes an angel: a
hangel, alas i he would call her, for nature and the Circumstances of his family had taken sad Cockney advantages over Andrea's pronunciation.
The Misses Wellesley Macarty were not, however,
very squeamish with regard to grammar, and, in this
dull season, voted Mr. Fitch an elegant young fellow.
His immense beard and whiskers gave them the highest
opinion of his genius; and before long the intimacy
between the young people was considerable, for Mr.
Fitch insisted upon drawing the portraits of the whole
family. He painted Mrs. Gann in her rouge and ribands, as described by Mr. Brandon; Mr. Gann, who
said that his picture would be very useful to the artist,
as every soul in Margate knew him; and the Misses
Macarty (a neat group, representing Miss Bella embracing Miss Linda, who was pointing to a pianoforte).
"I suppose you'll do my Carry next," said Mr.
Gann, expressing his approbation of the last picture.
"Law, silr," said Miss Linda, " Carry, with her red
hair!-it would be ojzus."




40          A SHABBY GENTFEL STORY.
"Mr. Fitch might as well paint Becky, our maid,"
said Miss Bella.
" Carry is quite impossible, Gann," said Mrs. Gann:
" she hasn't a gown fit to be seen in. She's not been
at church for thirteen Sundays in consequence."
"And more shame for you, ma'am," said Mr. Gann,
who liked his child: " Carry shall have a gown, and
the best of gowns."  And jingling three-and-twenty
shillings in his pocket, Mr. Gann determined to spend
them all in the purchase of a robe for Carry. But,
alas, the gown never came; half the money was spent
that very evening at the Bag of Nails.
"Is that-that young lady, your daughter?" said
Mr. Fitch, surprised, for he fancied Carry was a humble
companion of the family.
"Yes, she is, and a very good daughter, too, sir,"
answered Mr. Gann.  "Fetch and Carry I call her, or
else Carryvan —she's so useful: An't you, Carry?"
" I'm very glad if I am, papa," said the young lady
who was blushing violently, and in whose presence all
this conversation had been carried on.
" Hold your tongue, miss," said her mother; " you
are verly expensive to us, that you. are, and need not
brag about the work you do. You would not live
on charity, would you, like some folks (here she looked
fiercely at Mr. Gann); and if your sisters and me
starve to keep you and. some folks, I presume you are
bound to make us some return."
When any allusion was made to Mr. Gann's idleness and extravagance, or his lady showed herself in
any way inclined to be angry, it was honest James's
habit not to answer, but to take his hat and walk




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.             41
abroad to the public-house; or if haply she scolded
him at night, he would turn his back and fall a snoring.  These were the only remedies he found for Mrs.
James's bad temper; and the first of them he adopted
on hearing these words of his lady, which we have just
now transcribed.
Poor Caroline had not her father's refuge of flight,
but was obliged to stay and listen: and a wondrous
eloquence, God wot! had Mrs. Gann upon the subject
of her daughter's ill conduct.  The first lecture Mr.
Fitch heard, he set down Caroline for a monster.  Was
she not idle, sulky, scornful, and a sloven? For these
and many more of her daughter's vices Mrs. Gann
vouched, declaring that Caroline's misbehaviour was
hastening her own death, and finishing by a fainting
fit. In the presence of all these charges, there stood
Miss Caroline, dumb, stupid, and careless; nay, when
the fainting-fit came on, and Mrs. Gann fell back on
the sofa, the unfeeling girl took the opportunity to retire, and never offered to smack her mamma's hands,
to give her the smelling-bottle, or to restore her with a
glass of water.
One stood close at hand; for Mr. Fitch, when this
first fit occurred, was sitting in the Gann parlour, paintinlg that Lady's portrait; and he was making towards
her with his tumbler, when Miss Linda cried out,
"Stop! the water's full of paint!" and straightway
burst out laughing.  Mrs. Gann jumped up at this,
cured suddenly, and left the room, looking somewhat
foolish.
"You don't know  ma," said Miss Linda, still giggling; " she's always fainting."




42          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
"Poor thing 1" cried Fitch; "very nervous, I suppose?"
" Oh, very!" answered the lady, exchanging arch
glances with Miss Bella.
"Poor, dear lady!" continued the artist; "I pity
her from my hinmost soul.  Doesn't the himmortal
bard of Havon observe, how sharper than a serpent's
tooth it is to have a thankless child? And is it true,
ma'am, that that young woman has been the ruin of
her family?"
" Ruin of her fiddlestick!" replied Miss Bella. " Law,
Mr. Fitch, you don't know ma yet: she is in one of her
tantrums."
"What, then, it isn't true?" cried simple-minded
Fitch; to which neither of the young ladies made any
answer in words: nor could the little artist comprehend why they looked at each other, and burst out
laughing. But he retired pondering on what he had
seen and heard; and being a very soft young fellow,
most implicitly believed the accusations of poor dear
Mrs. Gann, and thought her daughter Caroline was no
better than a Regan or Goneril.
A time, however, was to come when he should believe her to be a most )pure and gentle Cordelia: and
of this change in Fitch's opinions we shall speak in
Chapter III.




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           43
CHAP. III.
A SHABBY GENTEEL.DINNER, AND OTHER INCIDENTS
OF A LIKE NATURE.
MR. BRANDON'S letter to Lord Cinqbars produced, as
we have said, a great impression upon the family of
Gann; an impression which was considerably increased
by their lodger's subsequent behaviour: for although
the persons with whom he now associated were of a
very vulgar, ridiculous kind, they were by no means so
low or ridiculous that Mr. Brandon should not wish to
appear before them  in the most advantageous light;
and, accordingly, he gave himself the greatest airs
when in their company, and bragged incessantly of his
acquaintance and familiarity with the nobility.  Mr.
Brandon was a tuft-hunter of the genteel sort; his
pride being quite as slavish, and his haughtiness as
mean and cringing, in fact, as poor Mrs. Gann's stupid
wonder and respect for all the persons whose names are
written with titles before them. 0 fiee and happy
Britons, what a miserable, truckling, cringing race you
are!
The reader has no doubt encountered a number o
such swaggerers in the course of his conversation with
the world-men of a decent middle rank, who affect to
despise it, and herd only with persons of the fashion.
This is an offence in a man which none of us can forgive; we call him tuft-hunter, lickspittle, sneak, un



44          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
manly; we hate, and profess to despise him. I fear it
is no such thing. We envy Lickspittle, that is the fact;
and therefore hate him. Were he to plague us with the
stories of Jones and Brown, our familiars, the man
would be a simple bore, his stories heard patiently; but
so soon as he talks of my lord or the duke, we are in
arms against him. I have seen a whole merry party in
Russell Square grow suddenly gloomy and dumb, because a pert barrister, in a loud, shrill voice, told a story
of Lord This or the Marquess of That. We all hated
that man; and I would lay a wager that every one of
the fourteen persons assembled round the boiled turkey
and saddle of mutton (not to mention side-dishes from
the pastry-cook's opposite the British Museum)-I would
wager, I say, that every one was muttering inwardly,
"A  plague on that fellow! he knows a lord, and I
never spoke to more than three in the whole course of
my life." To our betters we can reconcile ourselves, if
you please, respecting them very sincerely, laughing at
their jokes, making allowance for their stupidities, meekly suffering their insolence; but we can't pardon our
equals going beyond us.  A friend of mine who lived
amicably and happily among his firiends and relatives at
Hackney, was on a sudden disowned by the latter, cut
by the former, and doomed in innumerable prophecies
to ruin, because he kept a footboy,-a harmless, little
blowsy-faced urchin, in light snuff-coloured clothes,
glistering over with  sugar-loaf buttons.  There is
another man, a great man, a literary man, whom the
public loves, and who took a sudden leap from obscurity
into fame and wealth. This was a crime; but he bore
his rise with so much modesty, that even his brethren




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.             45
of the pen did not envy him. One luckless day he set
up a one-horse chaise; from  that minute he was
doomed.
"Have you seen his new carriage?" says Snarley.
"Yes," says Yow; " he's so consumedly proud of it,
that he can't see his old friends while he drives."
The fact is that our author, not much accustonmed
to the whip, is in a little flurry when he takes the reins,
and looks at his horse's head during the whole drive.
"Ith it a donkey-cart," lisps Simper, "thith gwand
new cawwaige? I always thaid that the man, firom hith
thtile, wath fitted to be a vewy dethent cothtermonger."
"Yes, yes," cries old Candour, "a sad pity indeed!
— dreadfully extravagant, I'm  told-bad health-expensive family-works going down every day —and
now he must set up a carriage, forsooth!"
Snarley, Yow, Simper, Candour, hate their brother.
If he is ruined, they will be kind to him and just; but
he is successful and wo be to him!
This trifling digression of half a page or so, although
it seems to have nothing to do with the story in hand,
has, nevertheless, the strongest relation to it; and you
shall hear what.
In one word, then, Mr. Brandon bragged so much,
oand assumed such airs of superiority, that after a while
he perfectly disgusted Mrs. Gann and the Misses Macarty,
who were gentlefolks themselves, and did not at all like
his way of telling them  that he was their better. Mr.
Fitch was swallowed up in his hart, as he called it, and
cared nothing for Brandon's airs.  Gann, being a low



46          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
spirited fellow, completely submitted to Mr. Brandon,
and looked up to him with deepest wonder. And poor
little Caroline followed her father's faith, and in six weeks
after Mr. Brandon's arrival at the lodgings had grown
to believe him the most perfect, finished, polished, agreeable of mankind. Indeed, the poor girl had never seen
a gentleman before, and towards such her gentle heart
turned instinctively. Brandon, never offended her by
hard words; insulted her by cruel scorn, such as she
met with from her mother and her sisters; there was a
quiet manner about the man quite different to any that
she had before seen amongst the acquaintances of her
family; and if he assumed a tone of superiority in his
conversation with her and the rest, Caroline felt that. he
was their superior, and as such admired and respected
him.
What happens when in the innocent bosom of a girl
of sixteen such sensations arise I  What has happened
ever since the world began?
I have said that Miss Caroline had no friend in the
world but her father, and must here take leave to recall
that assertion;-a friend she most certainly had, and
that was honest Becky, the smutty maid, whose name
has been mentioned before. Miss Caroline had learned,
in the course of a life spent under the tyranny of her
mamma, some-of the notions of the latter, and would
have been very much offended to call Becky her friend:
but friends, in fact, they were; and a great comfort it
was for Caroline to descend to the calm kitchen from
the stormy back-parlour, and there vent some of her little
woes to the compassionate servant of all work.
Wh0en Mrs. GCann wvent out with her daughters, Becky




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.            47
would take her workl and come and keep Miss Caroline
company; and, if the truth must be told, the greatest
enjoyment the pair used to have was in these afternoons,
when they read together out of the precious greasy
marble-covered volumes that Mrs. Gann was in the habit
of fetching from the library. Many and many a tale
had the pair so gone through. I can see them over
Manfrone; or the One-handed Monk —the room dark,
the street silent, the hour ten —the tall, red, lurid candlewick waggling down, the flame flickering pale upon
Miss Caroline's pale face as she read out, and lighting
up honest Becky's goggling eyes, who sat silent, her
work in her lap: she had not done a stitch of it for an
hour. As the trap-door slowly opens, and the scowling
Alonzo, bending over the sleeping Imoinda, draws his
pistol, cocks it, looks well if the priming be right, places
it then to the sleeper's ear, and-thunder-under-under
-down fall the snuffers! Becky has had them in hand
for ten minutes, afraid to use them. Up starts Caroline,
and flings the book back into her mamma's basket. It
is that lady returned with her daughters from a teaparty, where two young gents from London have been
mighty genteel indeed.
For the sentimental, too, as well as for the terrible,
Miss Caroline and the cook had a strong predilection, and
Ilad wept their poor eyes out over Thaddeus of Warsaw
and the Scottish Chiefs. Fortified by the examples
drawn from those instructive volumes, Becky was firmly
convinced that her young mistress would meet with a
great lord some day or other, or be carried off, like
Cinderella, by a brilliant prince, to the mortification of
her elder sisters, whom Becky hated.  And when, there



48          A SHABBY GENrTEEL STORY.
fore, the new lodger came, lonely, mysterious, melancholy, elegant, with the romantic name of George Brandon-when he wrote a letter directed to a lord, and
Miss Caroline and Becky together examined the superscription, such a look passed between them as the pencil
of Leslie or Maclise could alone describe for us. Becky's
orbs were lighted up with a preternatural look of wondering wisdom; whereas, after an instant, Caroline
dropped hers, and blushed, and said, " Nonsense,
Becky."
"I's it nonsense?" said Becky, grinning and snapping her fingers with a triumphant air; " the cards comes
true; I knew they would. Didn't you have king and
queen of hearts three deals running? What did you
dream about last Tuesday, tell me that 2"
But Miss Caroline never did tell, for her sisters came
bouncing down the stairs, and examined the lodger's
letter.  Caroline, however, went away musing much
upon these points; and she began to think Mr. Brandon
more wonderfnl and beautiful every day.
In the meantime, while Miss Caroline was innocently
indulging in her inclination for the brilliant occupier of
the first floor, it came to pass that the tenant of the
second was inflamed by a most romantic passion for
her.
For, after partaking for about a fortnight of the
a,-lmily dinner, and passing some evenings with Mrs.
Gann and the young ladies, Mr. Fitch, though by no
means quick of comprehension, began to perceive that
the nightly charges that were brought against poor
Caroline could not be founded upon truth. " Let's see,"
mused he to himself; " Tuesday, the old lady said her




A SHABBY GENTEEL SIFORY.           49
daughter was bringing her grey hairs with sorrow to
the grave, because the cook had not boiled the potatoes.
Wednesday, she said Caroline was an assassin, because
she could not find her own thimble. Thursday, she
vows Caroline has no religion, because that old pair
of silk stockings were not darned.  And this can't
be," reasoned Fitch, deeply. "A gal haint a murderess
because her ma can't find her thimble. A woman
that goes to slap her grown-up daughter on the back,
and before company too, for such a paltry thing as
a hold pair of stockings, can't be surely a-speaking the
truth." And thus gradually his first impression against
Caroline wore away. As this disappeared, pity took
possession of his soul-and we know what pity is akin
to; and, at the same time, a corresponding hatred for
the oppressors of a creature so amiable.
To sum up, in six short weeks after the appearance
of the two gentlemen, we find our chief dramatispersncee
as follows:
CAROLINE, an innocent young woman in love with BRANDON.
FITCH, a celebrated painter, almost ini love with CAROLINE.
BRANDON, a young gentleman in love with himself.
At first he was pretty constant in his attendance
upon the Misses Macarty when they went out to walk,
nor were they displeased at his attentions; but he found
that there were a great number of Margate beaux —ugly,
vulgar fellows as ever were-who always followed in
the young ladies' train, and made themselves infinitely
more agreeable than he was. These men Mr. Brandon
treated with a great deal of scorn; and, in return, they
hated him cordially. So did the ladies speedily: his




50           A SHABBY GlENTEEI, STORY.
haughty manners, though quite as impertinent and free,
were not half so pleasant to them  as Jones's jokes or
Smith's charming romps; and the girls gave Brandon
very shortlyto uni derstand that they were much happier
without him.  "Ladies, your humble," he heard Bob
Smith say, as that little linendraper came skipping to
the door from which they were issuing, " the sun's hup
and trade is down; if you're for a walk, I'm your man."
And Miss Linda and Miss Bella each took an arm of
Mr. Smith and sailed down the street.  "r I'm glad you
aint got that proud gent with the glass hi," said Mr.
Smith; "he's the most hillbred, supercilious beast I
ever see."
" So lie is," says Bella.
" Hush!" says Linda.
The "proud gent with the glass hi" was at this
moment lolling out of the first-floor window, smoking
his accustomed cigar; and his eye-glass was fixed upon
the ladies, to whom he made a very low bow.  It may
be imagined how fond he was of them afterwards, and
what looks lhe cast at Mr. Bob Smith the next time he
met him.  Mr. Bob's heart beat for a day afterwvards;
and he found he had business in town.
But the lo(e of society is stronger than even pride;
and as we saw the other day, in York gaol, how  the
illustrious Mr. Feargus O'Connor preferred to be locked
up with a couple of felons rather than to remain solitary,
an like manner the great Mr. Brandon was sometimes
fain to descend from his high station, and consort with
the vulgar family with whom  he lodged. But, as we
have said, he- always did this with a wonderfully condescendingr air, givinghis associates to understand how
great iwas tihe lhonour lbe did them.




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           51
One day, then, he was absolutely so kind as to accept of an invitation from  the ground-floor, which was
delivered in the passage by Mr. James Gann, who said,
"It was hard to see a gent eating mutton-chops from
week's end to week's end; and if Mr. Brandon had a
mind to meet a devilish good fellow as ever was, my
friend Swigby, a man who rides his horse, and has his
five hundred a-year to spend, and to eat a prime cut
out of as good a leg of pork (though he said it) as ever
a knife was stuck into, they should dine that day at three
o'clock sharp, and Mrs. G. andl- the gals would be glad
of the honour of his company."
The person so invited was rather amused at the
terms in which Mr. Gann conveyed his hospitable message; and at three o'clock made his appearance in the
baclk-parlour, whence he had the honour of conducting
Mrs. Gann (dressed in a sweet yellow mousseline de
laine, with a large red turban, a ferroniere, and a smelling-bottle, attached by a ring to a very damp, fat hand)
to the "office," where the repast was set out. The
Misses Macarty were in costumes equally tasty; one on
the guest's right hand; one near the boarder, Mr. Fitch,
who, in a large beard, an amethyst velvet waistcoat, his
hair fresh wetted, and parted accurately down the middle to fall in curls over his collar, would have been irresistible, if the collar had been a little, little whiter than
it was.
Mr. Brandon, too, was dressed in his very best suit;
for though he affected to despise his hosts very much,
he wished to make the most favourable impression upon
them, and took care to tell Mrs. Gann that he and Lord
So-and-so were the only two men in the world who




52         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
were in possession of that particular waistcoat which she
admired: for Mrs. Gann was very gracious, and had
admired the waistcoat, being desirous to impress with
awe Mr. Gann's friend and admirer, Mr. Swigby, who,
man of fortune as he was, was a constant frequenter of
the club at the Bag of Nails.
About this club and its supporters Mr. Gann's guest,
Mr. Swigby, and Gann himself, talked very gaily before
dinner; all the jokes about all the club being roared
over by the pair.
Mr. Brandon, who felt he was the great man of the
party, indulged himself in his great propensities without
restraint, and told Mrs. Gann stories about half the nobility. Mrs. Gann conversed knowingly about the
opera; and declared that she thought Taglioni the
sweetest singer in the world.
" Mr.-a-Swigby, have you ever seen Lablache
dance?" asked Mr. Brandon of that gentleman, to whom
he had been formally introduced.
"At Vauxhall is he? " said Mr. Swigby, who was
just from town.
"Yes, on the tight-rope; a charming performer."
On which Mr. Gann told how he had been to Vauxhall when the princes were in London; and his lady
talked of these knowingly. And then they fell to conversing about-fire-works and rack-punch; Mr. Brandon
assuring the young ladies that Vauxhall was the very
pink of the fashion, and longing to have the honour of
dancing a quadrille with them there. Indeed, Brandon
was so very sarcastic, that not a single soul at table understood him.
The table, from Mr. Brandon's plan of it, which was




A SHABBY  GENTEEL STORY.                  63
afterwards sent to my Lord Cinqbars, was arranged as
follows:Miss Caroline.    Mr. Fitch.     Miss L. Macarty.
1.                               3'
Potatoes.
Q      A roast leg of    Three shreds    Boiled haddock,   A
pork, with sage and   of celery in a   removed by hashed    S
onions.           glass.          mutton.
Cabbage.
2._______ _.4.
Mr. Swigby.    Miss J. Macarty.    Mr. Brandon.
1 and 2 are pots of porter; 3, a quart of ale, Mrs.
Gann's favourite drink; 4, a bottle of fine old golden
sherry, the real produce of the Uva grape, purchased at
the Bag-of-Nails Hotel for Is. 9d. by Mr. J. Gann.
Mr. Gcann.  "Taste that sherry, sir.  Your'ealth,
and my services to you, sir. That wine, sir, is given
me as a particular favour by my-ahem!-my winemerchant, who only will part with a small quantity of
it, and imports it direct, sir, from-ahem!-from  _      "
Mir. Brandon.  "From  Xeres, of course.  It is, I
really think, the finest wine I ever tasted in my lifeat a commoner's table, that is."
Mrs. G(ann.  "Oh, in course, a commoner's table!
-we have no titles, sir (Mr. Gann, I will trouble you
for some more crackling), though  my poor deal' girls
are related, by their blessed father's side, to some of the
first nobility in the land, I assure you."
Mt/r. Gann.  "Gammon, Jooly, my  dear.  Them
Irish nobility you know, what are they?  And, besides,




54          A SHABBY GENT'EEL STORY.
it's my belief that the gals are no more related to them
than I am."
Miss Belcla (to MXi. Brandon, confidentially). "You
must find that poor par is sadly vulgar, Mr. Brandon."
Mrs. Gann.  " Mr. Brandon has never been accustomed to such language, I am sure; and I entreat you
will excuse Mr. Gann's rudeness, sirl."
Miss Linda.  " Indeed, I assure you, Mr. Brandon,
that we've high connexions as well as low; as high as
some people's connexions, per'aps, though, we are not
always talking of the nobility." This was a double
shot; the first barrel of Miss Linda's sentence hit her
stepfather, the second part was levelled directly at Mr.
Brandon.  " Don't you think I'm right, Mr. Fitch?"
Mr. Brandon.  "You are quite right, Miss Linda,
in this as in every other instance; but I am afraid Mr.
Fitch has not paid a proper attention to your excellent
remark: for, if I don't mistake the meaning of that
beautiful design which he has made with his fork upon
the table-cloth, his soul is at this moment wrapped up
in his art."
This was exactly what Mr. Fitch wished that all the
world should suppose.  He flunig back his hail; and
stared wildly for a moment, and said, "Pardon me,
madam; it is true my thouglhts were at that moment
far away in the'regions of my hart."  He was really
thinking that his attitude was a very elegant one, and
that a large garnet ring which he wore on his forefinger
must be mistaken by all the company for a ruby.
"Art is very well," said Mr. Brandon; "but with
such pretty natural objects before you, I wonder you
were not content to think of them."




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           55
"Do you mean the mashed potatoes, sir?" said Andrea Fitch, wondering.
"I mean Miss Rosalinci Macarty," answered Brandcon, gallantly, and laughing heartily at the painter's
simplicity. But this compliment could not soften Miss
Linda, who had an uneasy conviction that Mr. Brandon
was laughing at her, and disliked him accordingly.
At this juncture, Miss Caroline entered and took the
place marked as hers, to the left hand of Mr. Gann, vacant. An old ricketty wooden stool was placed for
her, instead of that elegant and commodious Windsor
chair, which supported every other person at table; and
by the side of the plate stood a curious old battered tin
mug, on which the antiquarian might possibly discover
the inscription of the word "Caroline."  This, in truth,
was poor Caroline's mug and stool, having been appropriated to her from childhood upwards; and here it was
her custom meekly to sit, and eat her daily meal.
It was well that the girl was placed near her father,
else I do believe she would have been starved; but
Gann was much too good-natured to allow that any
difference should be made between her and her sisters.
There are some meannesses which are too mean even
for man-woman, lovely woman alone, can venture to
commit them. Well; on the present occasion, and
when the dinner was half over, poor Caroline stole
gently into the room and took her ordinary place.
Caroline's pale face was very red; for the fact must be
told that she had been in the kitchen helping Becky,
the universal maid; and having heard how the great
Mr. Brandon was to dine with them upon that day, the
simple girl had been showing her respect for him, by




56         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
compiling, in her best manner, a certain dish, for the
cooking of which her papa had often praised her. She
took her place, blushing violently when she saw him;
and if Mr. Gann had not been making a violent clattering with his knife and fork, it is possible that you might
have heard Miss Caroline's heart thump, which it did
violently. Her dress was somehow a little smarter than
usual; and Becky the maid, who brought in that remove of hashed mutton, which has been set down in
the bill of fare, looked at her young lady with a good
deal of complacency, as, loaded with plates, she quitted
the room. Indeed, the poor girl deserved to be looked
at; there was an air of gentleness and innocence about
her that was apt to please some persons, much more
than the bold beauties of her sisters. The two young
men did not fail to remark this; one of them, the little
painter, had long since observed it.
"' You are very late, miss," cried Mrs. Gann, who
affected not to know what had caused her daughter's
delay. " You're always late!" and the elder girls stared
and grinned at each other knowingly, as they always
did when mamma made such attacks upon Caroline,
who only kept her eyes down upon the tablecloth, and
began to eat her dinner without saying a word.
"Come, my dear," cried honest Gann, "if she is
late, you know why. A girl can't be here and there
too, as I say; can they, Swigby?"
" Impossible!" said Swigby.
"Gents,"  continued Mr. Gann, "our Carry, you
must know, has been down stairs, making the pudding
for her old pappy; and a good pudding she makes, I
can tell you."




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
Miss Caroline blushed more vehemently than ever;
the artist stared her full in the face; Mrs. Gann said,
"nonsense" and "stuff,"  very majestically; only Mr.
Brandon interposed in Caroline's favour.
"I would sooner that my wife should know how to
make a pudding," said he, "than how to play the best
piece of music in the world!"
"Law, Mr. Brandon! 1, for my part, wouldn't demean myself by any such kitchen-work!" cries Miss
Linda.
"Make puddns, indeed; it's ojous!" cries Bella.
"For you, my loves, of course!" interposed their
mamma.
"Young women of your family and circumstances
is not expected to perform any such work. It's different
with Miss Caroline, who, if she does make herself useful
now and then, don't make herself near so useful as she
should, considering that she's not a shilling, and is living on our charity, like some other folks!"
Thus did this amiable woman neglect no opportunity to give her opinions about her husband and daughter. The former, however, cared not a straw; and the
latter, in this instance, was perfectly happy. Had not
kind Mr. Brandon approved of her work; and could
she ask for more?
" Mamma may say what she pleases to-day," thought
Caroline, " I am too happy to be made angry by her."
Poor little mistaken Caroline, to think you were
safe against three women!  The dinner had not advanced much further, when Miss Isabella, who had
been examining her younger sister curiously for some
short time, telegraphed Miss Linda across the table;
3*




58          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
and nodded, and winked, and pointed to her own neck;
a very white one, as I have before had the honour to
remark, and quite without any covering, except a smart
necklace of twenty-four rows of the lightest blue glass
beads, finishing in a neat.tassel.  Linda had a similar
ornament of a vermillion colour; whereas Caroline, on
this occasion, wore a handsome new collar up to the
th.roat, and a brooch, which looked all the smarter for
the shabby frock over which they were placed.  As
soon as she saw her sisters' signals, the poor little thing,
who had only just done fluttering and blushing, fell to
this same work over again. Down went her eyes once
more, and her face and neck lighted up to the colour
of Miss Linda's sham cornelian,
"What's the gals giggling and ogling about?" said
Mr. Gann, innocently.
" What is it, my darling loves?" said stately Mrs.
Gann.
"Why, don't you see, ma?" said Linda.  "Look
at Miss Carry! I'm blessed if she has not got on Becky's
collar and brooch that Sims, the pilot, gave her!"
The young ladies fell back in uproarious fits of
laughter, and laughed all the time that their mamma
was thundering out a speech, in which she declared
that her daughter's conduct was unworthy a gentlewoman, and bid her leave the room and take off those
disgraceful ornaments.
There was no need to tell her; the poor little thing
gave one piteous look at her father, who was whistling,
and seemed indeed to think the matter a good joke;
and after she had managed to open the door and totter
into the passage, you might have heard her weeping




A SHA3BBY GENTEEL STORY.           59
there, weeping tears more bitter than any of the many
she had shed in the course of her life. Down she went
to the kitchen, and when she reached that humble
place of refuge, first pulled at her neck, and made as if
she would take off Becky's collar and brooch, and then
flung herself into the arms of that honest scullion, where
she cried and cried till she brought on the first fit of
hysterics that ever she had had.
This crying could not at first be heard in the parlour,
where the young ladies, Mrs. Gann, Mr. Gann, and his
friend from the Bag of Nails were roaring at the excellence of the joke. Mr. Brandon, sipping sherry, sat by
looking very sarcastically and slyly from one party to
the other; Mr. Fitch was staring about him  too, but
with a very different expression, anger and wonder inflaming his bearded countenance. At last, as the laughing died away and a faint voice of weeping came from
the kitchen below, Andrew could bear it no longer, but
bounced up from his chair, and rushed out of the room
exclaiming," By Jove, it's too bad!"
" What does the man mean?" said Mrs. Gann.
He meant that he was from that moment over head
and ears in love with Caroline; and that he longed to
beat, buffet, pummel, thump, tear to pieces, those
callous ruffians who so piteously laughed at her.
"What's that chop wi' the beard in such tantrums
about." said the gentleman from the Bag of Nails.
Mr. Gann answered this query by some joke intimating that, "Praps Mr. Fitch's dinner did not agree
with him," at which these worthies roared again.
The young ladies said, " Well, now, upon my
word!"




60          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
"Mighty genteel behaviour, truly!" cried mamma;
" but what can you expect from the poor thing?"
Brandon only sipped more sherry, but lie looked at
Fitch as the latter flung out of the room, and his countenance was lighted up by a more unequivocal smile.
These two little adventures were followed by a
silence of some few minutes, during which the meats
remained on the table, and no signs were shown of that
pudding upon which poor Caroline had exhausted her
skill. The absence of this delicious part of the repast
was first remarked by Mr. Gann; and his lady, after
jangling at the bell for some time in vain, at last
begged one of her daughters to go and hasten matters.
"BECKY!" shrieked Miss Linda from the hall, but
Becky replied not. " Becky, are we to be kept waiting
all day?" continued the lady in the same shrill voice.
"Mamma wants the pudding!"
"TELL HER TO FETCH IT HERSELF!" roared Becky,
at which remark Gann and his facetious friend once
more went off into fits of laughter.
" This is too bad!" said Mrs. G. starting up; " she
shall leave the house this instant!" and so no doubt
Becky would, but that the lady owed her five quarters'
wages; which she, at that period, did not feel inclined
to pay.
Well, the dinner at last was at an end; the ladies
went away to tea, leaving the gentlemen to their wine;
Brandon, very condescendingly, partaking of a bottle of
port, andlistening with admiration to the toasts and
sentiments with which it is still the custom among persons of Mr. Gann's rank of life to preface each glass of
wine. As thus:



A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.            61
Glass 1. " Gents," says Mr. Gann, rising, "this
glass I need say nothink about. Here's the king, and
long life to him and the family."
Mr. Swigby, with his glass, goes knock, knock,
knock on the table; and saying gravely, " The king!"
drinks off his glass, and smacks his lips afterwards.
Mr. Brandon, who had drank half his, stops in the
midst and says, "Oh,'the king!'"
-Mr. Swigby. "A good glass of wine that, Gann,
my boy!"
Mr. Brandon. "Capital, really; though, upon my
faith, I'm no judge of port."
Mr. Gann. (Smacks.) "A fine fruity wine as ever
I tasted. I suppose you, Mr. B., are accustomed only
to claret. I've'ad it, too, in my time, sir, as Swigby
there very well knows.  I travelled, sir, sure le Continong, I assure you, and drank my glass of claret with
the best man in France, or England either. I wasn't
always what I am, sir."
Mr. Brandon. " You don't look as if you were."
Mr. Cann. "No, sir.  Before that -     gas came
in, I was head, sir, of one of the fust'ouses in the hoil
trade, Gann, Blubbery, and Gann, sir-Thames Street,
City. I'd my box at Putney, as good a gig and horse
as my friend there drives."
Mr. Svwigby. "Ay, and a better too, Gann, I make
no doubt."
Mr. Gann. "Well, say a better. I had a better,
if money could fetch it, sir; and I didn't spare that, I
warrant you. No, no, James Gann didn't grudge his
purse, sir; and had his friends around him, as he's'appy to'ave now, sil. Mr. Brandon, your'ealth, sir,




62          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
and may we hoften meet under this ma'ogany. Swigby,
my boy, God bless you!"
Mr. Brandon. " Your very good health."
Mri. Swigby. "Thank you, Gann. Here's to you,
and long life and prosperity and happiness to you and
yours. Bless you, Jim, my boy; Heaven bless you!
I say this, Mr. Bandon-Brandon-what's your name
-there aint a better fellow in all Margate than James
Gann,-no, nor in all England. Here's Mrs. Gann,
gents, and the family. MRS. GANN!" (drinks.)
Mr. Brandon. "MRS. GANN. Hip, hip, hurra!"
(drinks.)
Mr. Gann. "Mrs. Gann, and thank you, gents. A
fine woman, Mr. B.; aint she, now? Ah, if you'd,eener when I married her! Gad, she was fine thenan out and outer, sir!  Such a figure!"
-XA. Swigby. "You'dl choose none but a good'un,
I war'nt. Ha, ha, ha!"
-Mr. Gann. " Did I ever tell you of my duel along
with the regimental doctor? No! Then I will. I
was a young chap, you see, in those days; and when
I saw her at Brussels —(Brusell, they call it)-I was
right slick up over head and ears in love with her at
once., But what was to be done? There was another
gent in the case-a regimental doctor, sir-a reg'lar
dragon.' Faint heart,' says I,' never won a fair lady,'
and so I made so bold. She took me, sent the doctor
to the right about. I met him one morning in the
Park at Brussels, and stood to him, sir, like a man.
When the affair was over, my second, a leftenant of
dragoons, told me,' Gann,' says he,' I've seen many a
man under fire-i'm a Waterloo man,' says he,-' and




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           63
have rode by %Wellington many a long day; but I never,
for coolness, see such a man as you.' Gents, here's the
Duke of Wellington and the British army!" (the gents
drink.)
Mr. Brandon. " Did you kill the doctor, sir? "
Mr. Gann. " Why no, sir; I shot in the hair."
Mr. Brandon. "Shot him in -the hair! Egad, that
was a severe shot, and a very lucky escape the doctor
had of it? Whereabouts in the hair? a whisker, sir;
or, perhaps, a pig-tail?"
Mr. Swigby. " Haw, haw, haw! shot'n in the hair
-capital, capital!"
Mr. Gann, who has grown very red. " No, sir, there
may be some mistake in my pronounciation, which I
didn't expect to have laughed at my hown table."
Mr. Brcandon. "My dear sir! I protest and
vow -
Mi. Gann. " Never mind it, sir. I gave you my
best, and did my best to make you welcome. If you
like better to make fun of me, do, sir. That may be
the genteel way, but hang me if it's hour way; is it,
Jack?  Our way; I beg your pardon, sir."
_M't. Swigby. "!Jim, Jim! for Heaven's sake!peace and harmony of the evening-conviviality-social enjoyment-didn't mean it-did you mean any
think, Mr. WVhatd-ye-call-'em 8"
Mr. Brandon. " Nothing, upon my honour as a
gentleman!"
Mr. Gann. "Well, then, there's my hand!" and
good-natured Gann tried to forget the insult, and to
talk as if nothing had occurred: but he had been
wounded in the most sensitive point in which a man




64          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
can be touched by his superior, and never forgot Brandon's joke. That night at the club, when dreadfully
tipsy, he made several speeches on the subject, and
burst into tears many times. The pleasure of the
evening was quite spoiled; and, as the conversation
became rapid and dull, we shall refrain from reporting
it. Mr. Brandon speedily took leave, but had not the
courage to face the ladies at tea; to whom, it appeals
the reconciled Becky had brought that refreshing
beverage.
CHAPTER  IV.
IN WIIICH MR. FITCH PROCLAIMS HIS LOVE, AND MR.
BRANDON PREPARES FOR WAR.
FROM the splendid halls in which Mrs. Gann was dispensing her hospitality, the celebrated painter, Andrea
Fitch rushed forth in a state of mind even more delirious than that which he usually enjoyed. He looked
abroad into the street, all there was dusk and lonely;
the rain falling heavily, the wind playing Pandoean
pipes and whistling down the chimney-pots. "I love
the storm," said Fitch, solemnly; and he put his great
Spanish cloak round him in the most approved manner
(it was of so prodigious a size that the tail of it, as it
twirled over his shoulder, whisked away a lodging-card
from the door of the house opposite Mr. Gann's).  "I
love the storm and solitude," said he, lighting a large
pipe filled full of the fragrant Oronooko; and thus




A SHABBY GENTE"EL STORY.          65
armed, he passed rapidly down the street, his hat cocked
over his ringlets.
Andrea did not like smoking, but he used a pipe as
a part of his profession as an artist, and as one of the
picturesque parts of his costume; in like manner,
though he did not fence, he always travelled about with
a pair of foils; and quite unconscious of music, nevertheless had a guitar constantly near at hand., Without
such properties'a painter's spectacle is not complete,
and now he determined to add to them another indispensable requisite-a mistress. " What great artist
was ever without one?" thought he. Long, long had
he sighed for some one whom he might love, some one
to whom he might address the poems which he was in
the habit of making. Hundreds of such fragments had
he composed, addressed to Leila, Ximena, Ada-imaginary beauties, whom he courted in dreamy verse.
With what joy would he replace all those by a real
charmer of flesh and blood! Away he went, then, on
this evening, the tyranny of Mrs. Gann towards poor
Caroline having awakened all his sympathies in the
gentle girl's favour, determined now and for ever to
make her the mistress of his heart. Monna-Lisa, the
Fornarina, Leonardo, Raphael-he thought of all these,
and vowed that his Caroline should be made famous
and live for ever on his canvass. While Mrs. Gann was
preparing for her firiends, and entertaining them at tea
and whist; while Caroline, all unconscious of the love
she inspired, was weeping up stairs in her little garret;
while Mr. Brandon was enjoying the refined conversation of Gann and Swigby, over their glass and pipe in
the office, Andrea walked abroad by the side of the




66          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
ocean; and, before he was wet through, walked himself into the most fervid affection for poor persecuted
Caroline. The reader might have observed him (had
not the night been very dark, and a great deal too wet
to allow a sensible reader to go abroad on such an
errand) at the sea-shore standing on a rock, and drawing from his bosom a locket which contained a curl of
hair tied up in riband. He looked at it for a moment,
-rnd then flung it away from him into the black boiling
waters below him.
"No other'air but thine, Caroline, shall ever rest
near this'art i" he said, and kissed the locket and restored it to its place. Light-minded youth, whose hair
was it that he thus flung away? How many times
had Andrea shown that very ringlet in strictest confidence to several brethren of the brush, and declared
that it was the hair of a dear girl in Spain whom he
loved to madness? Alas!'twas but a fiction of his
fevered brain; every one of his friends had a locket of
hair, and Andrea, who had no love until now, had clipped
this precious token from the wig of a lovely lay-figure,
with cast-iron joints and a card-board head, that had
stood for some time in his atelier.  I don't know that
he felt any shame about the proceeding, for he was of
such a warm imagination that he had grown to believe
that the hair did actually come from a girl in Spain,
and only parted with it on yielding to a superior attachment.
This attachment being fixed on, the young painter
came home wet through; passed the night in reading
Byron; making sketches, and burning them; writing
poems to Caroline, and expunging them with pitiless In



A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.            67
dian rubber. A romantic man makes a point of sitting
up all night, and pacing his chamber; and you may
see many a composition of Andrea's dated "Midnight,
10th of March, A. F." with his peculiar flourish over
the initials. He was not sorry to be told in the morning, by the ladies at breakfast, that he looked dreadfully pale; and answered, laying his hand on his forehead, and shaking his head gloomily, that he could get
no sleep: and then he would heave a huge sigh; and
Miss Bella and Miss Linda would look at each other,
and grin according to their wont. He was glad, I say,
to have his wo remarked, and continued his sleeplessness for two or three nights; but he was certainly still
more glad when he heard Mr. Brandon, on the fourth
morning, cry out, in a shrill angry voice, to Becky the
maid, to give the gentleman up-stairs his compliments
-Mr. Brandon's compliments-and tell him that he
could not get a wink of sleep for the horrid trampling
he kept up. "I am hanged if I stay in the house a
night longer," added the first floor sharply, "if that
Mr. Fitch kicks up such up a confounded noise!"  Mr.
Fitch's point was gained, and henceforth he was as
quiet as a mouse; but his wish was not only to be in
love, but to let every body know that he was in love,
or where is the use of a belle passion?
So, whenever he saw Caroline, at meals, or in the
passage, he used to stare at her with the utmost power
of his big eyes, and fall to groaning most pathetically.
He used to leave his meals untasted, groan, heave sighs,
and stare incessantly.  Mrs. Gann and her eldest
daughters were astonished at these manceuvres; for
they never suspected than any man could possibly be




68          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
such a fool as to fall in love with Caroline. At length
the suspicion came upon them, created immense laughter and delight; and the ladies did not fail to rally Caroline in their usual elegant way. Gann, too, loved a
joke (much polite waggery had this worthy man prac
tised in select inn-parlours for twenty years past), and
would call poor Caroline "Mrs. F.; and say that, instead of Fetch-and-Carry, as he used to name her, he
should style her Fitch-and-Carry for the future; and
laugh at this great pun, and make many others of a
similar sort, that set Caroline blushing.
Indeed, the girl suffered a great deal more fiom
this raillery than at first may be imagined; for after
the first awe inspired by Fitch's whiskers had passed
away, and he had drawn the young ladies' pictures,
and made designs in their albums, and in the midst of
their jokes and conversation had remained perfectly silent, the Gann family had determined that the man
was an idiot: and, indeed, were not very wide of the
mark.  In every thing except his own peculiar art
honest Fitch was an idiot; and as upon the subject of
painting, the Ganns, like most people of their class in
England, were profoundly ignorant, it came to pass
that he would breakfast and dine for many days in
their company, and not utter one single syllable. So
they looked upon him with extreme pity and contempt,
as a harmless, good-natured, crack-brained creature,
quite below them in the scale of intellect, and only to
be endured because he paid a certain number of shillings weekly to the Gann exchequer. Mrs. Gann in all
companies was accustomed to talk about her idiot.
Neighbours and children used to peer at him as he




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           69
strutted down the street; and though every young lady,
including my dear Caroline, is flattered by having a
lover,  at least they don't like such a lover as this.
The Misses Macarty (after having set their caps at him
very fiercely, and quarrelled concerning him on his first
coming to lodge at their house) vowed and protested
now that he was no better than chimpanzee; and
Caroline and Becky agreed that this insult was as great
as any that could be paid to the former. "He's a good
creature, too," said Becky, "crack-brained as he is. Do
you know, miss, he gave me half a sovereign to buy a
new collar, after that business t'other day?"
"And did —Mr., -did the first floor say any
thing?" asked Caroline.
" Didn't he! he's a funny gentleman, that Brandon,
sure enough; and when I took him up breakfast next
morning, asked about Sims the pilot, and what I
gied Sims for the collar and brooch, —he, he!"
And this was indeed a correct report of Mr. Brandon's conversation with Becky; he had been infinitely
amused with the whole transaction, and wrote his
friend the viscount a capital facetious account of the
manners and customs of the native inhabitants of the
Isle of Thanet.
And now, when Mr. Fitch's passion was fully developed-as far, that is, as sighs and ogles could give it
utterance-a curious instance of that spirit of contradiction for which our race is remarkable was seen in the
behaviour of Mr. Brandon. Although Caroline, in the
depths of her little silly heart, had set him  down for
her divinity, her wondrous fairly prince, who was to deliver her from her present miserable durance, she had




70O         A ShABBY GENTEEL STORY.
never by word or deed acquainted Brandon with her
inclination for him, but had, with instinctive modesty,
avoided  him  more  sedulously  than  before.   He,
too, had never bestowed a thought upion her.  How
should such a Jove as Mr. Brandon, fiom  the cloudy
summit of his fashionable Olympus, look down and
perceive such an humble, retiring being as poor little
Caroline Gann? Thinking her at first not disagreeable,
he had never, until the day of the dinner, bestowed one.single further thought upon her; and only when exasperated by the Miss Macartys' behaviour towards him, did
he begin to think how sweet it would be to make them
jealous and unhappy."
"The uncouth grinning monsters," said he, " with
their horrible court of Bob Smiths and Jack Joneses,
daring to look down upon me, a gentlemnan,-me the
celebrated mangeur des coefurs —a man of genius,
fashion, and noble family!  If I could but revenge
myself on them! What injury can I invent to wound
them."
It is curious to what points a man in his passion
will go. Mr. Brandon had long since, in fact, tried to
do the greatest possible injury to the young ladies; for
it had been, at the first dawn of his acquaintance, as
we are bound with much sorrow to confess, his fixed
intention to ruin one or the other of them. And when
the young ladies had, by their coldness and indifference
to him, frustrated this benevolent intention, he straightway fancied that they had injured him severely, and
cast about for means to revenge himself upon them.
This point is, to be sure, a very delicate one to treat,
— for in words, at least, the age has grown to be won



A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           7 1
derfully moral, and refuses to hear discourses upon such
subjects. But human nature, as far as I am able to
learn, has not much changed since the time when Richardson wrote and Hogarth painted, a century ago
There are wicked Lovelaces abroad, ladies, now, as then,
when it was considered no shame to expose the rogues;
and pardon us, therefore, for hinting that such there be
Elegant acts of routrie, such as that meditated by Mr
Brandon, are often performed still by dashing young
men of the world, who think no sin of an amourette,
but glory in it, especially if the victim be a person of
mean condition. Had Brandon succeeded (such is the
high moral state of our British youth), all his friends
would have pronounced him, and he would have considered himself, to be a very lucky, captivating dog; nor,
as I believe, would he have had a single pang of conscience for the rascally action which he had committed.
This supreme act of scoundrelism has man permitted to
himself-to deceive women. When we consider how he
has availed himself of the privilege so created by him,
indeed one may sympathise with the advocates of woman's rights who point out this monstrous wrong. We
have read of that wretched woman of old whom the
pious Pharisees were for stoning incontinently; but we
don't hear that they made any outcry against the man
who was concerned in the crime.  Where was hel
Happy, no doubt, and easy in mind, and regaling some
choice friends over a bottle with the history of his success.
Being thus injured then, Mr. Brandon longed for
revenge.  How  should he repay these impertinent
young women for slighting his addresses?  "Pardi,"




72           A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
said he; "just, to punish their pride and insolence, I
have a great mind to make love to their sister."
HIe did not, however, for some time condescend to
lerform  this threat.  Eagles such as Brandon do not
sail down from the clouds in order to pounce upon
small flies, and soar airwards again, contented with
such an ignoble booty. In a word, he never gave a
minute's thought to Mis Caroline, until further circumstances occurred which caused this great man to consider her as an object somewhat worthy of his remark.
The violent affection suddenly  exhibited by Mr.
Fitch, the painter, towards poor little Caroline was the
point which determined Brandon to begin to act.
" My dear Viscount," wrote he to the same Lord Cinqbars,
whom he formerly addressed, " give me joy, for in a week's
time it is my intention to be violently in love,-and love is no
small amusement in a watering-place in winter.
"I told you about the fair Juliana Gann and her family. I
forgot whether I mentioned how the Juliana had two fair
daughters, the Rosalind and the Isabella; and another, Caroline by name, not so good looking as her half-sisters, but, nevertheless, a pleasing young person.
"Well, when I came hither, I had nothing to do but to fall
in love with the two handsomest; and did so, taking many
walks with them, talking much nonsense; passing long, dismal
evenings over horrid tea with them and their mamma: laying
regular siege, in fact, to these Margate beauties, who, according
to the common rule in such cases, could not, I thought, last long.
"Miserable deception! disgusting aristocratic blindness!"
(Mr. Brandon always assumed that his own high birth and eminent position were granted.) "Would you believe it, that I,
who have seen, fought, and conquered in so many places, should
have been ignominiously defeated here? Just as American
Jackson defeated our Peninsular veterans, I, an old Continental




A SHABBY  GEN'EEL STORY.                 73
conqueror too, have been overcome by thllis ignoble enemy. These
women have entrenched themselves so firmly in their vulgarity,
that I have been beaten back seyveral times with disgrace, being
quite unable to make an impression. The monsters, too, keep
up a dreadful fire from behind their entrenchments; and besides
have raised the whole country against me: in a word, all the
snobs of their acquaintance are in arms. There is Bob Smith,
the linendraper; Harry Jones, who keeps -the fancy tea-shop;
young Glauber, the apothecary; and sundry other persons, who
are ready to eat me when they see me in the streets; and are
all at the beck of the victorious Amazons.
"How is a gentleman to make head against such a canaille
as this?-a regular jacquerie. Once or twice I have thought of
retreating; but a retreat, for sundry reasons I have, is inconvenient. I can't go to London; I am known at Dover; I believe there is a bill against me at Canterbury; at Chatham, there
are sundry quartered regiments whose recognition I should be
unwilling to risk. I must stay here-and be hanged to the place
-until my better star shall rise.
"But I am determined that my stay shall be to some purpose; and so, to show how persevering I am, I shall make one
more trial upon the third daughter,-yes, upon the third daughter, a family Cinderella, who shall, I am determined, make her
sisters crever with envy. I merely mean fun, you know- not
mischief, —for Cinderella is but a little child: and, besides, I
am the most harmless fellow breathing, but must have my joke.
Now, Cinderella has a lover, the bearded painter of whom I
spoke to you in a former letter. He has lately plunged into the
most extraordinary fits of passion for her, and is more mad than
even he was before. Wo betide you, O painter! I have nothing
to do; a month to do that nothing in: in that time, mark my
words, I will laugh at that painter's beard. Should you like a
lock of it, or a sofa stuffed with it?  there is- beard enough: or,
should you like to see a specimen of poor little Cinderella's
golden ringlets?  Command your slave. I wish I had paper
enough to write you an account of a grand Gann dinner, at
which I assisted, and of a scene which there took place; and
4




74           A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
how Cinderella was dressed out, not by a fairy, but by a charitable kitchen-maid, and was turned out of the room by her indignant mamma, for appearing in the scullion's finery. But my
forte does not lie in such descriptions of polite life. We drank
port, and toasts after dinner: here is the menu,' and tihe names
and order of the eaters."
The bill of fare has been given already, and need, not, therefore, be again laid before the public.
" What a fellow that is 1" said young Lord Cinqbars, reading
the letter to his friends, and in a profound admiration of his
tutor's genius,
"And to think that he was a reading man too, and took a
double first," cried another; "why, the man's an Admirable
Crichton."
"Upon my life, though, he's a little too bad," said a third
who was a moralist. And with this a fresh bowl of milk-punch
came reeking from the college butteries, and the jovial party
discussed that.
CHAPTER V.
CONTAINS A GREAT DEAL OF COMPLICATED LOVEMA IN G.
THE Misses Macarty were excessively indignant that
Mr. Fitch should have had the audacity to fall in love
with their sister; and poor Caroline's life was not, as
may be imagined, made much the happier by the envy
and passion, thus excited.  Mr. Fitch's amour was the
source of a great deal of pain to her.  Her mother
would tauntingly say, that as both were beggars, they
could not do better than  narry; anad declared, in the




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.            75
same satirical way, that she should like nothing better
than to see a large family of grandchildren about her, to
be plagues and burdens upon her, as her daughter was.
The short way would have been, when the young painter's intentions were manifest, which they pretty speedily
were, to have requested him immediately to quit the
house; or, as Mr. Gann said, " to give him the sack at
once;" to which measure the worthy man indignantly
avowed that he would have resort. But his lady would
not allow of any such rudeness; although, for her part,
she professed the strongest scorn and contempt for the
painter. For the painful fact must be stated: Fitch had
a short time previously paid no less a sum than a whole
quarter's board and lodging in advance, at Mrs. Ganl's
humble request, and he possessed his landlady's receipt
for that sum; the mention of which circumstance silenced Gann's objections at once. And, indeed, it is pretty
certain that, with all her taunts to her daughter, and
just abuse of Fitch's poverty, Mrs. Gann in her heart
was not altogether averse to the match. In the first
place, she loved match-making; next, she would be glad
to be rid of her daughter at any rate; and, besides,
Fitch's aunt, the auctioneer's wife, was rich, and had no
children; paintels, as she had heard, make often a great
deal of money, and Fitch might be a clever one for
aught she knew. So he was allowed to remain in the
house, an undecllared but very assiduous lover; and to
sigh, and to moan, and make verses and portraits of his
beloved, and build castles in the air as best he might.
Indeed, our humble Cinderella was in a very curious
position.  She felt a tender passion for the first floor,
and was adored by the second floor, and had to wait




76          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
upon both at the summons of the bell of either; and as
the poor little thing was compelled not to notice any of
the sighs and glances which the painter bestowed upon
her, she also had schooled herself to maintain a quiet
demeanour towards Mr. Brandon, and not allow him to
discover the secret which was labouring in her little
breast.
I think it may be laid down as a pretty general
rule, that most romantic little girls of Caroline's age
have such a budding sentiment as this young person
entertained; quite innocent, of course; nourished and
talked of in delicious secrecy to the confidante of the
hour. Or else what are novels made for? Had Caroline
read of Valancourt and Emily for nothing, or gathered
no good example firom those five tear-fraught volumes
which describe the loves of Miss Helen Mar and Sir
William Wallace? Many a time had she depicted
Brandon in a fancy costume, such as the fascinating
Valancourt wore; or painted herself as Helen, tying a
sash round her knight's cuirass, and watching him forth
to battle. Silly fancies, no doubt; but consider, madam,
the poor girl's age and education; the only instruction
she had ever received was from these tender, kind-hearted, silly books; the only happiness which Fate had
allowed her was in this little silent world of fancy.  It
would be hard to grudge the poor thing her dreams;
and many such did she have, and impart blushingly to
honest Becky, as they sat by the humble kitchen-fire.
Although it cost her heart a great pang, she had
once ventured to implore her mother not to send her
upstairs to the lodgers' rooms, for she shrunk at the
notion of the occurrence that Brandon should discover




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.             77
her regard for him; but this point had never entered
Mrs. Gann's sagacions head. She thoughtlher daughter
wished to avoid Fitch, and sternly bade her do her
duty, and not give herself such impertinent airs; and,
Indeed, it can't be said that poor Caroline was very
sorly at being compelled to continue to see Brandon.
To do both gentlemen justice, neither ever said a word
unfit for Caroline to hear.  Fitch would have been torn
to pieces by a thousand wild horses rather than have
breathed a single syllable to hurt her feelings; and
Brandon, though by no means so squeamish on ordinary occasions, was innately a gentleman, and, fiom
taste rather than fiom virtue, was carefully respectful
in his behaviour to her.
As for the Misses Macarty themselves, it has been
stated that they had already given away their hearts
several times; Miss Isabella being at this moment attached to a certain young wine-merchant, and to Lieutenant or Colonel Swabber of the Spanish service; and
Miss Rosalind having a decided fondness for a foreign
nobleman, witlh black mustachios, who had paid a visit
to Margate.  Of Miss Bella's lovers, Swabber had disappeared; but she still met the wine-merchant pretty
often, and it is believed had gone very nigh to accept
him.  As for Miss Rosalind, I am sorry to say that the
course of her true love ran by no means smoothly: the
Frenchman had turned out to be not a marquess, but a
billiard-marker; and a sad, sore subject the disappointment was with the neglected lady.
We should have spoken of it long since, had the
subject been one that was much canvassed in the Gann
family; but once when Gann had endeavoured to rally




s8          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
his step-daughter on this unfortunate attachment (using
for the purpose those delicate terms of wit for which the
honest gentleman was always famous), Miss Linda had
flown into such a violent fiury, and comported herself in
a way so dreadful, that James Gann, Esquire, was fairly
frightened out of his wits by the threats, screams, and
imprecations which she uttered. Miss Bella, who was
disposed to be jocose likewise, was likewise awed into
silence; for her dear sister talked of tearing her eyes
out that minute, and uttered some hints, too, regarding
love matters personally affecting Miss Bella herself,
which caused that young lady to turn pale-red, to mutter something about " wicked lies," and to leave the
room  immediately. Nor was the subject ever again
broached by the Ganns. Even when Mrs. Gann once
talked about that odious French impostor, she was
stopped immediately, not by the lady concerned, but by
Miss Bella, who cried, sharply, "Mamma, hold your
tongue, and don't vex our dear Linda by alluding to
any such stuff." It is most probable that the young ladies had had a private conference, which, beginning a
little fiercely at first, had ended amicably: and so the
marquess was mentioned no more.
Miss Linda, then, was comparatively fiee (for Bob
Smith, the linendraper, and young Glauber, the apothecary, went for nothing); and, very luckily for her, a
successor was found for the faithless Frenchman, almost
immediately.
This gentleman was a commoner, to be sure, but
had a good estate of five hundred a-year, kept his horse
and gig, and was, as Mr. Gann remarked, as good a
fellow as ever lived. Let us say at once that the new




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           79
lover was no other than Mr. Swigby. From the day
when he had been introduced to the family he appeared
to be very much attracted by the two sisters; sent a
turkey off his own farm, and six bottles of prime Hollands, to Mr. and Mrs. Gann, in presents; and, in ten
short days after his first visit, had informed his friend
Gann that he was violently in love with two women,
whose names he would never-never breathe. The
worthy Gann knew right well how the matter was; for
he had not failed to remark Swigby's melancholy, and
to attribute it to its right cause.
Swigby was forty-eight years of age, stout, hearty,
gay, much given to drink, and had never been a lady's
man, or, indeed, passed half-a-dozen evenings in ladies'
society. He thought Gann the noblest and finest fellow
in the world. He never heard any singing like James's,
nor any jokes like his; nor had met with such an accomplished gentleman or man of the world. "Gann
has his faults," Swigby would say at the Bag of Nails;
"' which of us has not? —but I tell you what, he's the
greatest trump I ever see."  Many scores of scores had
he paid for Gann, many guineas and crown-pieces had
he lent him, since he came into his property some three
years before. What were Swigby's former pursuits I
can't tell. What need we care? Hadn't he five hundred a-year now, and a horse and gig?  Ay, that he
had.
Since his accession to fortune, this gay young bachelor had taken his share (what he called'"his whack")
of pleasure; had been at one-nay, perhaps, at twopublic-houses every night; and had been drunk, I make
no doubt, nearly a thousand times in the course of the




80          A. SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
three years. Many people had tried to cheat him;
but, no, no i he knew what was what, and in all matters of money was simple and shrewd. Gann's gentility
won him; his bragging, his ton, and the stylish tuft on
his chin. To be invited to his house was a proud moment; and when he went away, after' the banquet described in the last chapter, he was:in a perfect ferment
of love and liquor.
"What a stylish woman is that Mrs. Gann!'
thought he, as he tumbled into bed at his inn: "fine
she must have been as a gal!-fourteen stone now,
without saddle and bridle, and no mistake. And them
Miss Macartys, Jupiter! what spanking, handsome, elegant creatures!-real elegance in both on'em! Such
hair'!-black's the word-as black as my mare; such
cheeks, such necks, and shoulders!" At noon he repeated these observations to Gann himself, as he walked
up and' down the pier with that gentleman, smoking
Manilla cheroots. He was in raptures with his evening.
Gann received his praises with much majestic good-humour.
"Blood, sir!"? said he, "blood's every thing! Them
gals have been brought up as few ever have. I don't
speak of myself; but their mother-their mother's a
lady, sir. Show me a woman "in England as is better
bred or-knows the world more than my Juliana I"
"It's impawsible," said Swigby.
"Think of the company we've'kep, sir, before our
misfortunes-the fust in the land. Brandenburg House,
sir-England's injured queen. Law bless you, Juliana
was always there'!"
"I make no doubt, sir; you can see it in her," said
Swigby, solemnly.




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.             81
"And as for those gals, why, aint they related to
the fust families in Ireland, sir?-In course, they are.
As I said before, blood's every thing; and those young
women have the best of it: they are connected with the
reglar old noblesse."
"They have the best of every think, I'm  sure," said
Swigby, "and deserve it, too," and relapsed into his
morning remarks.  "What creatures! what elegance!
what hair and eyes, sir!-black, and all's black, as I
say. What complexion, sir!-ay, and what makes, too!
Such a neck and shoulders I never see!"
Gann, who had his hands in his pockets (his friend's
arm being hooked into one of his), here suddenly withdrew his hand from its hiding-place, clenched his fist,
assumed a horrible knowing grin, and gave Mr. Swigby
such a blow in the ribs as well-nigh sent him into the
water.  "You sly dog!" said Mr. Gann, with inexpressible emphasis, "you've found that out, too, have you?
Have a care, Joe, my boy, —have a care."
And herewith Gann and Joe burst into tremendous
roars of laughter, fiesh explosions taking place at intervals of five minutes during the rest of the walk. The
two friends parted exceedingly happy; and when they
met that evening at "The Nails," Gann drew Swigby
mysteriously into the bar, and thrust into his hand a
triangular piece of pink paper, which the latter read:
"Mrs. Gann and the Misses Macarty request the honmur and
pleasure of Mr. Swigby's company (if you have no better engagement) to tea to-morrow evening, at half-past five.
"Milargaretta Cottage,
Salamanca Road North.
Thursday evening."
4*




82          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
The faces of the two gentlemen were wonderfully
expressive of satisfaction as this communication passed
between them. And I am  led to believe that Mrs.
Gann had been unusually pleased with her husband's
conduct on that day, for honest James had no less than
thirteen and sixpence in his pocket, and insisted, as
usual, upon standing glasses all round. Joe Swigby,
left alone in the little parlour behind the bar, called for
a sheet of papel, a new pen and a wafer, and in the
space of half-an-hour concocted a very spirited and satisfactory answer to this note; which was carried off by
Gann, and duly delivered. Punctually at half-past five
Mr. Joseph Swigby knocked at Margaretta Cottage
door, in his new coat with glistering brass buttons, his
face clean shaved, and his great ears shining over his
great shirt-collar, delightfully bright and red.
What happened at this tea-party it is needless here
to say; but Swigby came away from it quite as much
enchanted as before, and declared that the duets, sung
by the ladies in hideous discord, were the sweetest music he had ever heard. He sent the gin and the turkey
the next day; and, of course, was invited to dine. The
dinner was followed up on his part by an offer to drive
all the young ladies and their mamma into the country;
and he hired a very smart barouche to conduct them.
The invitation was not declined; and Fitch, too, was
asked by Mr. Swigby, in the height of his good-humour,
and accepted with the utmost delight. "Me and Joe
will go on the box," said Gann. "You four ladies and
Mr. Fitch shall go inside. Carry must go bodkin; but
she aint very big."




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           83
"Carry, indeed, will stop at home," said her mamma; " slhe's not fit to go out."
At which poor Fitch's jaw fell; it was in order to
ride with her that he had agreed to accompany the
party; nor could he escape now, having just promised
so eagerly.
"Oh, don't let's have that proud Brandon," said the
young ladies, when the good-natured Mr. Swigby proposed to ask that gentleman; and therefore he was not
invited to join them in their excursion: but he stayed
at home very unconcernedly, and saw the barouche and
its load drive off. Somebody else looked at it from the
parlour-window with rather a heavy heart, and that
some one was poor Caroline. The day was bright and
sunshiny; the spring was beginning early; it would
have been pleasant to have been a lady for once, and
to have driven along in a carriage with prancing horses.
Mr. Fitch looked after her in a very sheepish, melan-:choly way; and was so dismal and silly during the
first part of the journey, that Miss Linda, who was next
him, said to her papa that she would change places
with him; and actually mounted the box by the side
of the happy, trembling Mr. Swigby. How proud he
was, to be sure? How knowingly did he spank the
horses along, and fling out the shillings at the turnpikes!
" Bless you, he don't care for change!" said Gann,
as one of the toll-takers offered to render some coppers;
and Joe felt infinitely obliged to his friend for setting
off his amiable qualities in such a way.
0 mighty Fate, that over us miserable mortals
rulest supreme, with what small means are thy ends




84          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
effected!-with what scornful ease and mean instruments does it please thee to govern mankind!  Let
each man think of the circumstances of his life, and
how its lot has been determined. The getting up a
little earlier or later, the turning down this street or
that, the eating of this dish or the other, may influence
all the years and actions of a future life. Mankind
walks down the left-hand side of Regent Street instead
of the right, and meets a friend who asks him to dinner,
and goes, and finds the turtle remarkably good, and the
iced punch very cool and pleasant; and, being in a
merry, jovial, idle mood, has no objection to a social
rubber of whist-nay, to a few more glasses of that
cool punch. In the most careless, good-humoured way,
he loses a few points; and still feels thirsty, and loses
a few more points; and, like a man of spirit, increases
his stakes, to be sure, and just by that walk down
Regent Street is ruined for life. Or he walks down the
right-hand side of Regent Street instead of the left, and,
good Heavens! who is that charming young creature
who has just stepped into her carriage from Mr. Fraser's
shop, and to whom  and her manmma Mr. Fraser has
made the most elegant bow in the world? It is the
lovely Miss Moidore, with a hundred thousand pounds,
who has remarked your elegant figure, and regularly
drives to town on the first of the month, to purchase
her darling Magazine.  You drive after her as fast as
the hack-cab will carry you. She reads the Magazine
the whole way.  She stops at her. papa's elegant villa
at IHampstead, with a conservatory, a double coachhouse, and a parklike paddock.  As the lodge-gate
separates you fiom  that dear girl, she looks back just




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           85
once, and blushes.  Erubuit, salva est res.  She has
blushed, and you are all right. In a week you are introduced to the family, and-pronounced a charming
young fellow of high principles.  In three weeks you
have danced twenty-nine quadrilles with  her, and
whisked her through several miles of waltzes. In a
month Mrs. O'Flaherty has flung herself into the arms
of her mother, just having come from a visit to the village of Gretna, near Carlisle; and you have an account
at your banker's ever after. What is the cause of all
this good fortune?-a walk on a particular side of
Regent Street. And so true and indisputable is this
fact, that there is a young north country gentleman,
with whom I am acquainted, that daily paces up and
down the abovenamed street for many hours, fully expecting that such an adventure will happen to him;
for which end he keeps a cab in readiness at the corner
of Vigo Lane.
Now, after a dissertation in this history, the reader
is pretty sure to know that a moral is coming; and the
facts connected with our tale, which are to be drawn
from the above little essay on fate, are simply these: —
1. If Mr. Fitch had not heard Mr. Swigby invite all the
ladies, he would have refused Swigby's invitation, and
stayed at home. 2. If he had not been in the carriage,
it is quite certain that Miss Rosalind Macarty would not
have been seated by him on the back seat. 3. If he
had not been sulky, she never would have asked her
papa to let her take his place on the box. 4. If she
had not taken her papa's place on the box, not one of
the circumstances  would have happened which did
happen; and which were as follows: —




86          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
1. Miss Bella remained inside.
2. Mr. Swigby, who was wavering between the two,
like a certain animal between two bundles of hay, was
determined by this circumstance, and made proposals
to Miss Linda, whispering to Miss Linda: "Miss, I aint
equal to the like of you; but I'm hearty, healthy, and
have five hundred a-year. Will you marry me "  In
fact, this very speech had been taught him by cunning Gann, who saw  well enough that Swigby would
speak to one or other of his daughters. And to it the
young lady replied, also in a whispering, agitated tone,
" Law, Mr. S.! What an odd man! How can you 2"
And, after a little pause, added, " Speak to mamma."
3. (And this is the main point of my story.)  If
little Caroline had been allowed to go out, she never
would have been left alone with Brandon at Margate.
When Fate wills that something should come to pass,
she sends forward a million of little circumstances to
clear and prepare the way.
In the month of April (as indeed in half-a-score of
other months of the year) the reader may have remarked that the cold north-east wind is prevalent; and that
when, tempted by a glimpse of sunshine he issues forth
to take the air, he receives not only it, but such a quantity of it as is enough to keep him shivering through
the rest of the miserable month.  On one of these
happy days of English weather (it was the very day
before the pleasure party described in the last chapter)
Mr. Brandon, cursing heartily his country, and thinking
how infinitely more congenial to him were the winds
and habits prevalent in other nations, was marching
over the cliffs near Margate, in the midst of a storm of




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.             87
shrill east wind which no ordinary mortal could bear,
when he found perched on the cliff, his fingers blue with
cold, the celebrated Andrea Fitch, employed in sketching a land or a sea-scape on a sheet of grey paper.
"You have chosen a fine day for sketching," said
Mr. Brandon, bitterly, his thin aquiline nose peering
out livid from the fur collar of his coat.
Mr. Fitch smiled, understanding the allusion.
"An hartist, sir," said he, "doesn't mind the coldness of the weather. There was a chap in the Academy who took sketches twenty degrees below zero in
iEiceland-Mount'Ecla, sir! E was the man that gave
the first hidea of Mount'Ecla for the Surrey Zoological
Gardens.".
" IIe must have been a wonderful enthusiast!" said
Mr. Brandon; "I fancy that most men would prefer to
sit at home, and not numb their fingers in such a
freezing storm as this!"
"Storm, sir!" replied Fitch, majestically; "I live
in a storm, sir! A true artist is never so'appy as when
he can have the advantage to gaze upon yonder tempestuous hocean in one of its hangry moods."
"Ay, there comes the steamer," answered Mr.
Brandon; "I can fancy that there are a score of -unhappy people on board who are not artists, and would
wish to behold your ocean quiet."
" They are not poets, sir: the glorious hever-changing expression of the great countenance of Nature is
not Seen by them, no more than the storm and the sunshine which rages and gleams halternately in the face
of my favourite hactor, Mr. M'Hasterisk, is seen by the
gents in the gallery. They are too far away firom it, sir;




88          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
those vulgar people, sucking their horanges and paying
their shilling. I should consider myself unworthy my
hart, if I could not bear a little privation of cold or'eat
for its sake. And besides, sir, whatever their hardships
may be, such a sight hamply repays me; for, although
my private sorrows may be (has they are) tremendous,
I never can look abroad upon the green hearth and
hawful sea, without in a measure forgetting my personal
woes and wrongs; for what right has a poor creature
like me to think of his affairs in the presence of such a
spectacle as this? I can't, sir; I feel ashamed cf myself; I bow my head and am quiet. When I set myself to examining hart, sir (by which I mean nature), I
don't dare to think of any thing else."
"You worship a very charming and consoling mistress," answered Mr. Brandon, with a supercilious air,
lighting and beginning to smoke a cigar; "your enthusiasm does you credit."
"If you have another," said Andrea Fitch, "I
should like to smoke one, for you seem to have a real
feeling about hart, and I was a-getting so deucedly cold
here that really there was scarcely any bearing of it."
"The cold is very severe," replied Mr. Brandon.
" No, no, it's not the weather, sir I" said Mr. Fitch;
"it's here, sir, here," (pointing to the left side of his
waistcoat).
"Whlat! you, too, have had sorrows?"
"Sorrows, sir! hagonies-hagonies, which I have
never unfolded to any mortal!  I have endured halmost hevery thing.  Poverty, sir'unger, hobloquy,'opeless love!-but for my hart, sir, I should be the most
miserable wretch in the world!"




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           89
And herewith Mr. Fitch began to pour forth into
Mr.:Brandon's- ears the history of some of those sorrows under which he labcured, and which he communicated to every single person who would listen to him.
Mr. Brandon was greatly amused by Fitch's prattle,
and the latter told him under what privations he had
studied his art: how he had starved for three years in
Paris and: Rome, while labouring at his profession; how
meanly jealous the Royal Academy was, which would
never exhibit a single one of his pictures; how he had
been driven friom the Heternal City by the attentions
of an immense fat Mrs. Carrickfergus, who absolutely
proposed marriage to him; and how he was at this
moment (a fact of which Mr. Brandon was already
quite aware) madly and desperately in love with one
of the most beautiful maidens in this world. For Fitch,
having a mistress to his heart's desire, was boiling with
impatience to have a confidant; what, indeed, would
be the joy of love, if one were not allowed to speak of
one's feelings to a friend who could know how to sympathise with them? Fitch was sure Brandon did, because Brandon was the very first person with whom
the painter had talked since he had come to the resolution recorded in the last chapter.
" I hope she is as rich as that unlucky Mrs. Carrickfergus, whom you treated so cruelly?" said the confidant, affecting entire ignorance.
"Rich, sir? no, I thank Heaven, she has not a
penny!" said Fitch.
"I presume, then, you are yourself independent,"
said Brandon, smiling; " for in the marriage state, one
or the other of the parties concerned should bring a
portion of the filthy lucre?"




90           A SHABBY GENTFEL STORY.
"Haven't I my profession, sir?" said Fitch, majestically, having declared five minutes before that he
starved in his profession.  " Do you suppose a painter
gets nothing?  Haven't I horders fiom the first people
in Europe? —commissions, sir, to hexecute'istory-pieces,
battle-pieces, haltar-pieces?"
"Master-pieces, I am  sure," said Brandon, bowing
politely; "for a gentleman of your astonishing-genius
can do no other."
The delighted artist received this compliment with
many blushes, and vowed and protested that his performances were not really worthy of such high praise;
but he fancied Mr. Brandon a great connoisseur, nevertheless, and unburdened his mind to him in a manner
still more open. Fitch's. sketch was by this time finished; and, putting his drawing implements together,
he rose, and the gentlemen walked away.  The sketch
was hugely admired by Mr. Brandon, and when they
came home, Fitch, culling it dexterously out of his
book, presented it in a neat speech to his friend, "the
gifted hamateur."
"The gifted hamateur" received the drawing with a
profusion of thanks, and so much did he value it, that
he had actually torn off a piece to light a segar with,
when he saw that words were written on the other side
of the paper, and deciphered the following:
"SONG OF THE VIOLET.
A humble flower long time I pined,
Upon the solitary plain,
And trembled at the angry wind,
And shrunk before the bitter rain.




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.                 91
And, oh! how in a blessed hour,
A passing wanderer chanced to see;
And, pitying the lonely flower,
To stoop and gather me.
I fear no more the tempest rude,
On dreary heath no more I pine;
But left my cheerless solitude,
To deck the breast of Caroline.
Alas i our days are brief at best,
Nor long I feel will mine endure,
Though shelter'd here upon a breast
So gentle and so pure.
It draws the fragrance from my leaves,
It robs me of my sweetest breath;
And every time it falls and heaves,
It warns me of my coming death.
But one I know would glad forego
All joys of life to be as I;
An hour to rest on that sweet breast,
And then, contented die.
" ANDREA."
When  Mr. Brandon had finished the perusal of
these verses, he laid them down with an air of considerable vexation.  "Egad 1" said he,' this fellow, fool
as he is, is not so great a fool as he seems; and if he
goes on this way, may finish by turning the girl's head.
They can't resist a man if he but presses hard enough
-I know they can't!"  And here Mr. Brandon mused
over his various experience, which confirmed his observation, that be a man ever so silly, a gentlewoman will
yield to him  out of sheer weariness.  And he thought
of several cases in which, by the persevering application of copies of verses, young ladies had been brought,




92          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
from dislike to sufferance of a nlan, from  sufferance to
partiality, and from partiality to St. George's, Hanover
Square.  "A  ruffian who murders his h's to carry off
such a delicate little creature as th4t!" cried he in a
transport: " it shall never be if I can prevent it!" He
thought Caroline more and more beautiful every instant, and was himself by this time almost as much in
love with her as Fitch himself.
Mr. Brandon, then, saw Fitch depart in Swigby's
carriage with no ordinary feelings of pleasure.  Miss
Caroline was not with them.  "Now is my time!"
thought Brandon; and, ringing the bell, he enquired
with some anxiety, from Becky, where Miss Caroline
was? It must be confessed that mistress and maid were
at their usual occupation, working and reading novels
in the back-parlour.  Poor Carry! what other pleasure
had she?
She had not gone through many pages, or Becky
advanced many stitches in the darning of that tablecloth which the good housewife, Mrs. Gann, had confided to her charge, awhen an humble knock was heard at
the door of the sitting-room, that caused the blushing
Caroline to tremble and drop her book, as Miss Lydia
Languish does in the play.
Mr. George Brandon entered with a very demure
air. iHe held in his hand a black satin neck-scarf, of
which a part had come to be broken.  He could not
wear it in its present condition, that was evident; but
Miss Caroline was blushing and trembling a great deal
too much to suspect that this wicked Brandon had himself torn his own scarf with his own hands one moment before he entered  the room.  I don't know




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.            93
whether Becky had any suspicions of this fact, or
whether it was only the ordinary roguish look which
she had when any thing pleased her, that now lighted
up her eyes and caused her mouth to expand smilingly,
and her fat, red cheeks to gather up into wrinkles.
" I have had a sad misfortune," said he, "and should
be very much obliged indeed to Miss Caroline to repair
it."  (Caroline was said with a kind of tender hesitation that caused the young woman, so named, to blush
more than ever.)  "It is the only stock I have in the
world, and I can't go bare-necked into the streets; can
I, Mrs. Becky -2"
"No, sure," said Becky.'"Not unless I was a celebrated painter, like Mr.
Fitch," added Mr. Brandon, with a smile, which was
reflected speedily upon the face of the lady whom he
wished to interest.  "Those great geniuses," he added,
"may do anything."
"For,"  says Becky, "hee's got enough beard on
hees faze to keep bees neck warm!" At which remark,
though Miss Caroline very properly said, "For shame,
Becky!"  Mr. Brandon was so convulsed with laughter, that he fairly fell down upon the sofa on which
Miss Caroline was seated. How she startled and trembled, as he flung his arm upon the back of the couch!
Mr. Brandon did not attempt to apologise for what was
ian act of considerable impertinence, but continued melrcilessly to make many more jokes concerning poor
Fitch, which were so cleverly suited to the comprehension
of the maid and the young mistress, as to elicit a great
number of roars of laughter fiolm the one, and to cause
the other to smile in spite of herself.  Indeed Brandon




94           A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
had gained a vast reputation with Becky in his
morning colloquies with her, and she was ready to
laugh at any single word which it pleased him to utter.
How many of his good things had this honest scullion
carried down stairs to Caroline, and how pitilessly had
she. contrived to estropier them in their passage from
the drawing-room to the kitchen.
Well, then, while Mr. Brandon " was a-going on," as
Becky said, Caroline had taken his stock, and her little
fingers were occupied in repairing the damage he had
done to it. Was it clumsiness on her part?  Certain it
is that the rent took several minutes to repair: of them
the mangeur des ccuars did not fail to profit, conversing
in an easy, kindly, confidential way, which set our fluttering heroine speedily at rest, and enabled her to reply
to his continual queries, addressed with much adroitness
and an air of fraternal interest, by a number of those
pretty, little, timid, whispering, yeses and noes, and those
gentle quick looks of the eyes, wherewith young and
modest maidens are wont to reply to the questions of
seducing young bachelors.  Dear yeses and noes, how
beautiful you are when gently whispered by pretty lips!
-glances of quick innocent eyes, how charming are
you!-and how charming the soft blush that steals over
the cheel:, towards which the dark lashes are drawing
the full blue-veineid eyelids down.  And here let the
writer of this solemnly declare upon his veracity, that
he means nothing but what is right and moral.  But
look, I pray you, at an innocent, bashful girl, of sixteen;
if she be but good, she must be pretty.  She is a woman now, but a girl still.  How delightful all her ways
are! How exquisite her instinctive grace! All the arts




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.             95
of all the Cleopatras are not so captivating as her nature. Who can resist her confiding simplicity, or fail to
be touched and conquered by her gentle appeal to protection!
All this Mr. Brandon saw and felt, as many a gentleman educated in this school will. It is not because
a man is a rascal himself that he cannot appreciate virtue and purity very keenly; and our hero did feel for
this simple, gentle, tender, artless creature, a real respect
and sympathy-a sympathy so fresh and delicious, that
he was but too glad to yield to it and indulge in it, and
which he mistook, probably, for a real love of virtue,
and a return to the days of his innocence.
Indeed, Mr. Brandon, it was no such thing.  It was
only because vice and debauch were stale for the moment, and this pretty virtue new. It was only because
your cloyed appetite was long unused to this simple
meat that you felt so keen a relish for it; and I thought
of you only the last blessed Saturday, at Mr. Lovegrove's, West India Tavern, Blackwall, where a company of fifteen epicures, who had scorned the turtle,
poohpoohed the punch, and sent away the whitebait,
did suddenly and simultaneously make a rush upon-a
dish of beans and bacon. And if the assiduous reader
of novels will think upon some of the most celebrated
works of that species, which have lately appeared in this
and other countries, he will find, amidst much debauch
of sentiment, and enervating dissipation of intellect, that
the writers have from time to time a returning appetite
for innocence and freshness, and indulge us with occasional repasts of beans and bacon. How long Mr. Brandon remained by Miss Caroline's side I have no means




96           A SHABBY GENTELL STORY.
of judging; it is probable, however, that he stayed a
much longer time than was necessary for the mending
of his black satin stock.  I believe, indeed, that he read
to the ladies a great part of the Mysteries of Udolpho,
over which they were engaged; and interspersed his
reading with many remarks of his own, both tender and
satirical.  Whether he was in her company half-an-hour
or four hours, this is certain, that the time slipped away
very swiftly with poor Caroline; and when a carriage
drove up to the door, and shrill voices were heard crying
" Becky I" " Carry!" and Rebecca, the maid, starting up,
cried, " Lor', here's missus i" and Brandon jumped rather
suddenly off the sofa, and fled up the stairs-when all
these events took place, I know Caroline felt very sad
indeed, and opened the door for her parents with a very
heavy heart.
Swigby helped Miss Linda off the box with excessive tenderness. Papa was bustling and roaring in high
good-humour, and called for "hot water and tumblers
immediately." Mrs. Gann was gracious; and Miss Bell
sulky, as she had good. reason to  be, for she insisted
upon taking the front seat in the carriage before her
sister, and had lost a husband by that very piece of obstinacy.
Mr. Fitch, as he entered, bestowed upon Caroline a
heavy sigh and a deep stare, and silently ascended to
his own apartment.  He was lost in thought.  The fact
is, he was trying to remember some verses regarding a
violet, which he had made five years before, and which
he had somehow lost from  among his papers.  So he
went up stairs, muttering,
"A humble flower long since I pined
Upon a solitary plain -"




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.            91,
CHAPTER VI.
DESCRIBES A SHABBY-GENTEEL MARRIAGE, AND MORE
LOVE-MAKING.
IT will not be necessary to describe the particulars of
the festivities which took place on the occasion of Mr
Swigby's marriage to Miss Macarty. The happy pair
went off in a post-chaise and four to the bridegroom's
country-seat, accompanied by the bride's blushing sister:
and when the first week of their matrimonial bliss was
ended, that worthy woman, Mrs. Gann, with her excellent husband, went to visit the young couple. Miss
Caroline was left, therefore, sole mistress of the house,
and received especial cautions from her mamma as to
prudence, economy, the proper management of the
lodgers' bills, and the necessity of staying at home.
Considering that one of the gentlemen remaining in
the house was a declared lover of Miss Caroline, I think
it is a little surprising that her mother should leave her
unprotected; but in this matter the poor are not so particular as the rich; and so this young lady was consigned to the guardianship of her own innocence, and
the lodgers' loyalty: nor was there any reason why
Mrs. Gann should doubt the latter. As for Mr. Fitch,
he would have far preferred to be torn to pieces by ten
thousand wild horses, rather than to offer to the young
woman any unkindness or insult; and how was Mrs.
Gann to suppose that her other lodger was a whit less
5




98          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
loyal? that he had any partiality for a person of whom
he always spoke of as a mean, insignificant, little baby?
So, without any misgivings, and in a one-horse fly with
Mr. Gann by her side, with a bran new green coat and
gilt buttons, Juliana Gann went forth to visit her beloved child, and console her in her married state.
And here, were I allowed to occupy the reader with
extraneous matters, I could give a very curious and
touching picture of the Swigby menage. Mrs. S., I am
very sorry to say, quarrelled with her husband on the
third day after their marriage,-and for what, pr'ythee?
Why, because, he would smoke, and no gentleman
ought to smoke. Swigby, therefore, patiently resigned
his pipe, and with it one of the quietest, happiest, kindest companions of his solitude. He was a different
man after this; his pipe was as a limb of his body.
Having on Tuesday conquered the pipe, Mrs. Swigby,
on Thursday, did battle with her husband's rum-andwater,-a drink of an odious smell, as she very properly
observed; and the smell was doubly odious, now that
the tovbacco smoke no longer perfumed the parlourbreeze, and counteracted the odours of the juice of West
India sugar-canes.  On Thursday, then, Mr. Swigby
and rum held out pretty bravely. Mrs. S. attacked the
punch with some sharp-shooting, and fierce charges of
vulgarity; to which S. replied, by opening the battery
of oaths (chiefly directed to his own eyes, however), and
loud. protestations that he would never surrender. In
three days more, however, the rum and-water was gone.
Mr. Swigby, defeated and prostrate, had given up that
stronghold; his young wife and sister were triumphant;
and his poor mother, who occupied 1iey son's house, and




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.             99
had till now taken her place at the head of his table,
saw that her empire was for ever lost, and was preparing suddenly to succumb to the imperious claims of the
mistress of the mansion.
All this, I say, I wish I had the liberty to describe
at large, as also to narrate the arrival of majestic Mrs.
Gann; and a battle-royal which speedily took place
between the two worthy mothers-in-law. Noble is the
hatred of ladies who stand in this relation to each other;
each sees what injury the other is inflicting upon her
darling child; each mistrusts, detests, and to her offspring privily abuses the arts and crimes of the other.
A house with a wife is often warm  enough; a house
with her wife and mother is rather warmer than any
spot on the known globe; a house with two mothersin-law is so excessively hot, that it can be likened to no
place on earth at all, but one must go lower for a simile.
Think of a wife who despises her husband, and teaches
him manners; of an elegant sister, who joins in rallying him (this was almost the only point of union between Bella and Linda now,-for since the marriage,
Linda hated her sister consumedly). Think, I say, of
two mothers-in-law,-one, large, pompous, and atrociously genteel,-another coarse and shrill, determined
not to have her son put upon,-and you may see what
a happy fellow Joe Swigby was, and into what a piece
of good luck he had fallen.
What would have become of him without his fatherin-law? Indeed one shudders to think; but the consequence of that gentleman's arrival and intervention
was speedily this: —About four o'clock, when the dinner was removed, and the quarrelling used commonly




100         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
to sat in, the two gents (we love to call them by that
delightful title)-the two gents took their hats, and sallied out; and as one has found when the body is inflamed that the application of a stringent medicine may
cause the ill to disappear for a while, only to return
elsewhere with greater force; in like manner, Mrs.
Swigby's sudden victory over the pipe and rum-andwater, although it had caused a temporary cessation of
the evil of which she complained, was quite unable to
stop it altogether; it disappeared from one spot only
to rage with more violence elsewhere. In Swigby's parlour, rum and tobacco odours rose no more (except, indeed, when Mrs. Gann would partake of the formel as
a restorative); but if you could have seen the HalfMoon and Snuffers down the village; if you could have
seen the good dry skittle-ground which stretched at the
back of that inn, and the window of the back parlour
which superintended that skittle-ground; if the hour at
which you beheld these objects was evening, what time
the rustics from  their toils released, trolled the stout
ball amidst the rattling pins (the oaken pins that standing in the sun did cast long shadows on the golden
sward); if you had remarked all this, I say, you would
have also seen in the back parlour a tallow candle
twinkling in the shade, and standing on a little greasy
table. Upon the greasy table was a pewter porter-pot,
and to the left a teaspoon glittering in a glass of gin;
close to each of these two delicacies was a pipe of tobacco; and behind the pipes sat Mr. Gann and Mr.
Swigby, who now made the Half-Moon and Snuffers
their usual place of resort, and forgot their married
cares.




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          101
In spite of all our promises of brevity, these things
have taken some space to describe; and the reader
must also know that some short interval elapsed ere
they occurred. A month at least passed away before
Mr. Swigby had decidedly taken up his position at the
little inn: all this time, Gann was staying with his sonin-law, at the latter's most earnest request; and Mrs.
Gann remained under the same roof at her own desire.
Not the hints of her daughter, not the broad questions
of the dowager Mrs. Swigby, could induce honest Mrs.
Gann to stir from her quarters. She had had her
lodger's money in advance, as was the worthy woman's
custom; she knew Margate in April was dreadful dull,
and she determined to enjoy the country until the jovial town season arrived. The Canterbury coachman,
whom Gann knew, and who passed through the village, used to take her cargo of novels to and fro; and
the old lady made herself as happy as circumstances
would allow. Should any thing of importance occur
during her mamma's absence, Caroline was to make
use of the same conveyance, and inform Mrs. Gann in
a letter.
Miss Caroline looked at her papa and mamma as
the vehicle which was to bear them to the newly-married couple moved up the street; but, strange to say,
she did not feel that heaviness of heart which she before.had experienced when forbidden to share the festivities of her family, but was on this occasion more happy
than any one of them,-so happy, that the young woman felt quite ashamed herself; and Becky was fain
to remark how her mistress's cheek flushed, and her
eye sparkled (and turned perpetually to the door), and
her whole little firame was in a flutter.




102         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
" I wonder if he will come," said the little heart;
and the eyes turned and looked at that well-known
sofa-corner, where he had been placed a fortnight before. He looked exactly like Lord Byron, that he did,
with his pale brow, and his slim bare neck; only not
half so wicked —no, no. She was sure that her-her
Mr. Br  - her Branl    her George, was as good as
he was beautiful. Don't let us be angry with her for
calling him -George; the girl was bred in an humble
sentimental school; she did not know enough of society -to be squeamish; she never thought that she
could be his really, and gave way in the silence of her
fancy to the full extent of her affection for him.
She had not looked at the door above twenty-five
times-that is to say, her parents had not quitted the
house ten minutes-when, sure enough, the latch did
rattle, the door opened, and with a faint blush on his
cheek divine George entered. He was going to make
some excuse, as on the former occasion; but he looked
first into Caroline's face, which was beaming with joy
and smiles; and the little thing, in return, regarded
him, and-made room for him on the sofa. 0, sweet
instinct of love! Brandon had no need of excuses, but
sat down, and talked away as easily, happily, and confidentially, and neither took any-note of time. Andrea
Fitch (the sly dog!) witnessed the Gann departure with
feelings of exultation, and had laid some deep plans of
his own with regard to Miss Caroline. So strong was
his confidence in his friend on the first floor, that Andrea actually descended to those apartments, on his way
to Mrs. Gann's parlour, in order to consult Mr. Brandon,
and make known to him his plan of operations.




A SHABBY GELNTEEL STORY.          103
It would have made your heart break, or, at the
very least, your sides ache, to behold the countenance
of poor Mr. Fitch, as he thrust his bearded head in at the
door of the parlout.  There was Brandon lolling orl
the sofa, at his ease; Becky in full good humour; anc
Caroline, always absurdly inclined to blush, blushing at
Fitch's appearance more than ever! She could not
help looking from  him  slyly and gently into the face
of Mr. Brandon. That gentleman saw the look, and
did not fail to interpret it. It was a confession of love
— an appeal for protection. A thrill of delightful
vanity shot through Brandon's frame, and made his
heart throb, as he noticed this look of poor Caroline.
He answered it with one of his own that was cruelly
wrong, cruelly triumphant, and sarcastic; and he shouted out to Mr. Fitch, with a loud, disconcerted tone,
which only made that young painter feel more awkward than ever he had been. Fitch made some clumsy
speech regarding his dinner,-whether that meal was
to be held, in the absence of the parents, at the usual
hour, and then took his leave.
The poor fellow had been pleasing himself with the
notion of taking this daily meal tete-d-tete with Caroline. What progress would he make in her heart
during the absence of her parents! Did it not seem
as if the first marriage had been arranged on purpose
to facilitate his own? He determined thus his plan
of campaign.  He would make, in the first place, the
most beautiful drawing of Caroline that ever was seen.
"The conversations I'll'ave with her during the sittings," says he, "will carry me a pretty long way; the
drawing itself will be so beautiful, that she can't resist




104         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
that. I'll write her verses in her halbum, and make
designs hallusive of my passion for her." And so our
pictorial Alnaschar dreamed and dreamed. He had,
ere long, established himself in a house in Newman
Street, with a footman to open the door. Caroline was
up-stairs, his wife, and her picture the crack portrait
of the Exhibition. With her by his side, Andrea Fitch
felt he could do any thing. Half-a-dozen carriages at
his door,-a hundred guineas for a kit-cat portrait.
Lady Fitch, Sir Andrew Fitch, the President's chain,all sorts of bright visions floated before his imagination; and as Caroline was the first precious condition
of his preferment, he determined forthwith to begin,
and realise that.
But, oh, disappointment! on coming down to dinner at three o'clock to that charming tete-a-tete, he
found no less than four covers laid on the table, Miss
Caroline blushing (according to custom) at the head of
it; Becky, the maid, grinning at the foot; and Mr.
Brandon sitting quietly on one side, as much at home,
forsooth, as if he had held that position for a year.
The fact is, that the moment after Fitch retired,
Brandon, inspired by jealousy, had made the same re-.quest which had been brought forward by the painter;
nor must the ladies be too angry with Caroline, if, after
some scruples and struggles, she yielded to the proposal. Remember that the girl was the daughter of a
boarding-house, accustomed to continual dealings with
her mamma's lodgers, and up to the present moment
thinking herself as safe among them  as the young
person who walked through Ireland with a bright gold
wand, in the scene of Mr. Thomas Moore. On the




A SIIABBY GENTEEL STORY.          105
point, however, of Brandon's admission, it must be confessed, for Caroline's honour, that she did hesitate. She
felt that she entertained very different feelings towards
him to those with which any other lodger or man had
inspired her, and made a little movement of resistance
at first. But the poor girl's modesty overcame this,
as well as her wish. Ought she to avoid him? Ought
she not to stifle any preference which she might feel
towards him, and act towards him with the same indifference which she would show to any other person
in a like situation? Was not Mr. Fitch to dine at table
as usual, and had she refused him? So reasoned she
in her heart.  Silly, little, cunning heart! it knew that
all these reasons were lies, and that she should avoid
the man; but she was willing to accept of any pretext
for meeting, and so made a kind of compromise with
ner conscience. Dine he should; but Becky should
dine too, and be a protector to her.i Becky laughed
loudly at the idea of this, and took her place with huge
delight.
It is needless to say a word about this dinner, as we
have already described a former meal; suffice it to say,
that the presence of Brandon caused the painter to be
excessively sulky and uncomfortable; and so gave his
rival, who was gay, triumphant, and at his ease, a decided advantage over him. Nor did Brandon neglect
to use this to the utmost. When Fitch retired to his
own apartments-not jealous as yet, for the simple fellow believed every word of Brandon's morning conversation with him —but vaguely annoyed and disappointed,
Brandon assailed him with all the force of ridicule; at
all his manners, words, looks, he joked mercilessly;
5*




106         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
laughed at his low birth (Miss Gann, be it remembered,
had been taught to pique herself upon her own family),
and invented a series of stories concerning his past life
which made the ladies-for Becky, being in the parlour,
must be considered as such- conceive the greatest
contempt and pity for the poor painter.
After this, Mr. Brandon would expatiate with much
eloquence upon his own superior attractions and qualities. He talked of his cousin, Lord So-and-so, with the
easiest air imaginable; told Caroline what princesses
he had danced with at foreign courts; frightened her
with accounts of dreadful duels he had fought; in a
word, "posed" before her as a hero of the most sublime
kind. How the poor little thing drank in all his tales;
and how she and Becky (for they now occupied the
same bedroom) talked over them at night!
Miss Caroline, as Mr. Fitch has already stated, had
in her possession, like almost every young lady in England, a little square book called an album, containing
prints from annuals; hideous designs of flowers; old
pictures of faded fashions, cut out and pasted into the
leaves; and small scraps of verses selected from Byron,
Landon, or Mrs. Hemans; and written out in the girlish
hand of the owner of the book. Brandon looked over
this work with a good deal of curiosity-for he contended, always, that a girl's disposition might be learned
from the character of this museum of hers-and found
here several sketches by Mr. Fitch, for which, before
that gentleman had declared his passion for her, Caroline had begged. These sketches the sentimental painter
had illustrated with poetry, which, I must confess, Caroline thought charming, until now, when Mr. Brandon




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          107
took occasion to point out how wretchedly pool the
verses were (as indeed was the fact), and to parody
them all. He was not unskilful at this kind of exercise,
and at the drawing of caricatures, and had soon made
a dozen of both parodies and drawings, which reflected
cruelly upon the person and the talents of the painter.
What now did this wicked Mr. Brandon do? He,
in the first place, drew a caricature of Fitch; and,
secondly, having gone to a gardener's near the town,
and purchased there a bunch of violets, he presented
them to Miss Caroline, aitd wrote Mr. Fitch's own verses
before given into her album. He signed them with his
own initials, and thus declared open war with the
painter.
CHAPTER VII.
WHICH BRINGS A GREAT NUMBER OF PEOPLE TO
MARGATE BY THE STEAMBOAT.
THE events which this history records began in the
month of February. Time had now passed, and April
had arrived, and with it that festive season so loved by
schoolboys, and called the Easter holydays. Not only
schoolboys, but men, profit by this period of leisure, —
such men, especially, as have just come into enjoyment
of their own cups and saucers, and are in daily expectation of their whiskers-college men, I mean,-who are
persons more anxious than any others to designate
themselves and each other by the manly title.




108        A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
Among other men, then, my Lord Viscount Cinqbars, of Christ Church, Oxon, received a sum of money
to pay his quarter's bill; and having written to his papa
that he was busily engaged in reading for the little-go,
and must, therefore, decline the delight he had promised
himself of passing the vacation at Cinqbars Hall, —and
having, the day after his letter was despatched, driven
to town tandem with young Tom Tufthunt, of the same
university,-and having exhausted the pleasures of the
metropolis-the theatres, the Cider-cellars, the Finish,
the station-houses, and other places which need by no
means be here particularised,-Lord Cinqbars, I say,
growing tired of London at the end of ten days, quitted
the metropolis somewhat suddenly: nor did he pay his
hotel bills at Long's before his departure; but he left
that document in possession of the landlord, as a token
of his (my Lord Cinqbars') confidence in his host.
Tom Tufthunt went with my lord, of course (although of an aristocratic turn in politics, Tom loved and
respected a lord as much as any democrat in England).
And whither do you think this worthy pair of young
gentlemen were bound? To no less a place than Margate; for Cinqbars was filled with a longing to go and
see his old friend Brandon, and determined, to use his
own elegant words, "to knock the old buck up."
There was no adventure of consequence on board
the steamer which brought Lord Cinqbars and his
friend from London to Margate, and very few passengers besides. A wandering Jew or two were set down
at Gravesend; the Rev. Mr. Wackerbart, and six unhappy little pupils whom the reverend gentleman had
pounced upon in London, and was carrying back to his




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          109
academy near Herne Bay; some of those inevitable
persons of dubious rank who seem to have free tickets,
and always eat and drink hugely with the captain; and
a lady and her party, formed the whole list of passengerls.
The lady-a very fat lady-had evidently just returned from abroad. Her great green travelling chariot
was on the deck, and on all her imperials were pasted
fresh large bills, with the words INCE's BRITISH HOTEL,
BOULOGNE-SUR-MER; for it is the custom of that worthy
gentleman to seize upon and plaster all the luggage of
his guests with tickets, on which his name and residence
are inscribed,-by which simple means he keeps himself perpetually in their recollection, and brings himself
to the notice of all other persons who are in the habit
of peering at their fellow-passengers' trunks, to find out
their names. I need not say what a large class this is.
Well; this fat lady had a courier, a tall whiskered
man, who spoke all languages, looked like a field-marshal, went by the name of Donnerwetter, and rode on
the box; a French maid, Mademoiselle Augustine; and
a little black page, called Saladin, who rode in the rumble. Saladin's whole business was to attend a wheesy,
fat, white poodle, who usually travelled inside with his
mistress, and her fair compagnon de voyage, whose name
was Miss Runt. She was evidently a person of distinction. This fat lady, during the first part of the voyage,
on a windy, sunshiny April-day, paced the deck stoutly,
leaning on the arm of poor little Miss Runt; and after
they had passed Gravesend, when the vessel began to
pitch a good deal, retired to her citadel, the travelling
chariot, to and from which the steward, the stewardess,




110         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
and the whiskered courier were continually running
with supplies, of sandwiches first, and afterwards of very
hot brandy-and-water: for the truth must be told, it
was rather a rough afternoon, and the poodle was sick;
Saladin was as bad; the French maid, like all French
maids, was outrageously ill; the lady herself was very
unwell indeed; and poor, dear, sympathising Runt was
qualmish.
"Ah, Runt!" would the fat lady say in the intervals, " what a thing this malady de mare is!  0 mong
jew!  0 —0!"
"It is, indeed, dear madam," said Runt, and went
O-O0-in chorus.
"Ask the steward if we are near Margate, Runt."
And Runt did, and asked this question every five
minutes, as people do on these occasions.
"'Issy Monsieur.Donnerwetter  ally dimandy ung
pew d'o sho poor mwaw."
" Et de l'eau de fie afec,: n'est-ce-bas, Matame?"
said Mr. Donnerwetter.
" Wee, wee, comme vous vouly."
And Donnerwetter knew very well what "comme
vous vouly" meant, and brought the liquor exactly in
the wished-for state.
"Ah, Runt, Runt! there's something even worse
than sea-sickness. Heigh-ho!"
"Dear, dear Marianne, don't flutter yourself," cries
Runt, squeezing a fat paw of her friend and patroness
between her own bony fingers. "Don't agitate your
nerves, dear. I know you're miserable; but haven't
you got a friend in your faithful Runty?"
"You're a good creater, that you are," said the fat




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          111
lady, who seemed herself to be a good-humoured old
soul; "and I don't know what I should have done
without you. Heigh-ho i"
"Cheer up, dear! you'll be happier when you get
to Margate: you know you will," cried Runt, very
knowingly.
" What do you mean, Elizabeth?"
"You know very well, dear Marianne. I mean
that there's some one there will make you happy;
though he's a nasty wretch, that he is, to have treated
my darling, beautiful Marianne so."
" Runt, Runt, don't abuse that best of men. Don't
call me beautiful-I'm not, Runt; I have been, but I
aint now: and, oh! no woman in the world is assy
bong poor lui."
"But an angel is; and you are, as you always was,
an angel,-as good as an angel, as kind as an angel, as
beautiful as one."
"Ally dong," said her companion, giving her a
push; " you flatter me, Runt, you know you do."
"May I be struck down dead if I don't say the
truth; and if he refuses you, as he did at Rome,-that
is if, after all his attentions and vows, he's faithless to
you, I say he's a wretch, that he is; and I will say he's
a wretch, and he is a wretch —a nasty, wicked wretch!"
"Elizabeth, if you say that you'll break my heart,
you will!  V1ous casserez mong pover cure."  But
Elizabeth swore, on the contrary, that she, would die for
her Marianne, which consoled the fat lady a little.
A great deal more of this kind of conversation took
place during the voyage; but as it occurred inside a
carriage, so that to hear it was very difficult, and as




112         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
possibly it was not of that edifying nature which would
induce the reader to relish many chapters of it, we shall
give no further account of the ladies' talk: suffice it to
say, that about half-past four o'clock the journey ended,
by the vessel bringing up at Margate Pier. The passengers poured forth, and hied to their respective homes,
or inns. My Lord Cinqbars and his companion (of
whom we have said nothing, as they on their sides had
scarcely spoken a word the whole way, except " deuceace," "quater-tray," "sizes," and so on,-being occupied
ceaselessly in drinking bottled stout, and playing backgammon), ordered their luggage to be conveyed to
Wright's Hotel, whither the fat lady and suite followed
them. The house was vacant, and the best rooms in it
were placed, of course, at the service of the new comers.
The fat lady sailed out of her bed-room towards her saloon, just as Lord Cinqbars, cigar in mouth, was swaggering out of his parlour. They met in the passage;
when, to the young lord's surprise, the fat lady dropped
him a low courtesy, and said,
" Munseer le Vecomte de Cinqbars, sharmy de vous
voir. Vous-vous rappelez de mwaw, n'est-ce pas?  Je
vous ai vew a Rome-shay l'ambassadure vous savy."
Lord Cinqbars stared her in the face, and pushed
by her without a word, leaving the fat lady rather disconcerted.
"Well, Runt, I'm sure," said she, " he need not be
so proud; I've met him twenty times at Rome, when
he was a young chap with his tutor."
" Who the devil can that fat foreigner be?" mused
Lord Cinqbars.  "Hang her, I've seen her somewhere;
but I'm cursed if I understand a word of her jabber."




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           113
And so, dismissing the subject, he walked on to
Brandon's.
"Dang it, it's a strange thing!" said the landlord
of the hotel;" but both my lord and the fat woman
in number nine have asked their way to Mother Gann's
lodging,"-for so did he dare to call that respectable
woman!
It was true: as soon as number nine had eaten her
dinner, she asked the question mentioned by the landlord; and, as this meal occupied a considerable time,
the shades of evening had by this time fallen upon the
quiet city; the silver moon lighted up the bay, and,
supported by a numerous and well-appointed train of
gas lamps, illuminated the streets of a town; —of autumn
eves so crowded and so gay; of gusty April nights, so
desolate. At this still hour (it might be half-past seven),
two ladies passed the gates of Wright's Hotel, "in
shrouding mantle wrapped, and velvet cap." Up the
deserted High Street toiled they, by gaping rows of
empty bathing-houses, by melancholy Jolley's French
bazar, by mouldy pastry-cooks, blank reading-rooms, by
fishmongers who never sold a fish, mercers who vended
not a yard of riband-because, as yet, the season was
not come,-and Jews and Cockneys still remained in
town. At High Street's corner, near to Hawly Square,
they passed the house of Mr. Fincham, chemist, who
doth not only healthful drugs supply, but likewise sells
cigars-the worst cigars that ever mortal man gave
threepence for.*
* All these descriptions of Margate are strictly correot,the author having visited that town, to our knowledge, three




114         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
Up to this point, I say, I have had a right to accompany the fat lady and Miss Runt; but whether, on
arriving at Mr. Finchaam's, they turned to the left, in the
direction of the Royal Hotel, or to the right, by the
beach, the bathing machines, and queer, rickety old
row of houses, called Buenos Ayres, no power on earth
shall induce me to say; suffice it, they went to Mrs.
Gann's.  Why should we set all the world gadding to a
particular street, to know where that lady lives? They
arrived before that lady's house at about eight o'clock.
Every house in the street had bills on it, except hers
(bitter mockery, as if any body came down at Eastel)!
and at Mrs. Gann's house there was a light in the garret, and another in the two-pair front.  I believe I have
not mentioned before, that all the front windows were
bow or bay-windows; but so much the reader may
know.
The two ladies, who had walked so far, examined
wistfully the plate on the door, stood on the steps for a
short time, retreated, and conversed with one another.
"Oh, Runty!" said the stouter of the two, "he's
here —I know he's here, mong cure le dee-my heart
tells me so."  And she put a large hand upon a place
on her left side, where there once had been a waist.
" Do you think he looks front or back, dear?" asked
Runt.  "P'raps he's not at home."
"That-that's his croisy," said the stout person: "I
times, at different seasons of the year, in order to make himself
master of the localities. It is a pity that Walter Scott, when
he wrote Quentin Durward, &c., had not given himself the
same pains.-O. Y.




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.           115
know it is;" and she pointed with instinctive justice
to the two-pair.  "Ecouty!" she added, " he's coining:
there's some one at that window. 0 mong jew, mong
jew! c'est Andre, c'est lui!"
The moon was shining full on the face of the bowwindows of Mrs. Gann's house; and the two fair spies,
who were watching on the other side, were, in consequence, completely in shadow. As the lady said, a
dark form was seen in the two-pair front; it paced the
room for a while, for no blinds were drawn. It then
flung itself on a chair; its head on its hands; it then
began to beat its brows wildly, and paced the room
again. Ah! how. the fat lady's heart throbbed as she
looked at all this!
She gave a piercing shriek-almost fainted; and
little Runt's knees trembled under her, as with all her
might she supported, or rather pushed up, the falling
figure of her stout patroness,-who saw at that instant
Fitch come to the candle with an immense pistol in his
hand, and give a most horrible grin as he looked at it,
and clasped it to his breast.
"Unhand me, Runt; he's going to kill himself!
It's for me! I know it is —I will go to him! Andrea,
my Andrea!" And the fat lady was pushing for the
opposite side of the way, when suddenly the second
floor window went clattering up, and Fitch's pale head
was thrust out.
He had heard a scream, and had possibly been induced to open the window in consequence; but by the
time he had opened it he had forgotten every thing,
and put his head vacantly out of the window, and
gazed, the moon shining cold on his pale features.




116         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
"Pallid horb!" said Fitch, "shall I ever see thy
light again? Will another night see me on this hearth,
or view me, stark and cold, a lifeless corpse?" He took
his pistol up, and slowly aimed it at a chimney-pot opposite. Fancy the fat lady's sensations, as she beheld her
]over standing in the moonlight, -and exercising this
deadly weapon.
"Make ready-present-fire!" shouted Fitch, and
did instantaneously, not fire off, but lower his weapon.
"The bolt of death is sped!" continued he, clapping
his hand on his side. "The poor painter's life is over!
Caroline, Caroline, I die for thee!"
" Runt, Runt, I told you so!" shrieked the fat
lady. "He is dying for me, and Caroline's my second
name."
What the fat lady would have done more, I can't
say; for Fitch, disturbed out of his revery by her talking below, looked out, frowning vacantly, and saying,
"Ulloh! we've hinterlopers'ere!" suddenly banged
down the window, and pulled down the blinds.
This gave a check to the fat lady's projected rush,
and disconcerted her a little. But she was consoled by
Miss Runt, promised to return on the morrow, and
went home happy in the idea that her Andrea was
faithful to her.
Alas, poor fat lady! little did you know the truth.
It was Caroline Gann Fitch was raving about; and it
was a part of his last letter to her, to be delivered after
his death, that he was spouting out of the window.
Was the crazy painter going to fight a duel, or was
he going to kill himself? This will be explained in the
next chapter.




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          117
CHAPTER VIII.
WHICH TREATS OF WAR AND LOVE, AND MANY THINGS
THAT ARE NOT TO BE UNDERSTOOD IN CHAP. VII.
FITCH'S verses, inserted in the August number of this
Magazine (and of which lines, by the way, the printer
managed to make still greater nonsense than the ingenious bard ever designed), had been composed many
years before; and it was with no small trouble and
thought that the young painter called the greater part
of them to memory again, and furbished up a copy for
Caroline's album. Unlike the love of most men, Andrea's passion was not characterised by jealousy and
watchfulness, otherwise he would not have failed to perceive certain tokens of intelligence passing from time to
time between Caroline and Brandon, and the lady's
evident coldness to himself. The fact is, the painter
was in love with being in love,-entirely absorbed in
the consideration of the fact that he, Andrea Fitch, was
at last enamoured; and he did not mind his mistress
much more than Don Quixote did Dulcinea del
Toboso.
Having rubbed up his verses, then, and designed a
pretty emblematical outline which was to surround them,
representing an arabesque of violets, dewdrops, fairies,
and other objects, he came down one morning, drawing
in hand; and having informed Caroline, who was sitting very melancholy in the parlour, preoccupied, with




118         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
a pale face and red eyes, and not caring twopence for
the finest drawing in the world, —having informed her
that he was going to make in her halbum a humble
hoffering of his hart, poor Fitch was just on the point
of sticking in the drawing with gum, as painters know
very well how to do, when his eye lighted upon a page
of the album, in which nestled a few dried violets and
-his own verses, signed with the name of George
Brandon.
"' Miss Caroline —Miss Gann, main!" shrieked Fitch,
in a tone of voice which made the young lady start out
of a profound revery, and cry, nervously,-" What, in
Heaven, is the matter?"
"These verses, madam —a faded violet-word for
word, gracious Eavens! every word!" roared Fitch, advancing with the book.
She looked at him  rather vacantly, and, as the
violets caught her eye, put out her hand, and took
them. "Do you know the hawthor, Miss Gann, of' The faded Violets?'"
" Author? Oh, yes; they are-they are George's!"
She burst into tears as she said that word; and, pulling
the little faded flowers to pieces, went sobbing out of
the room.
Dear, dear little Caroline! she has only been in love
two months, and is already beginning to feel the woes
of it!
It cannot be from want of experience-for I have
felt the noble passion of love many times these forty
years, since I was a boy of twelve (by which the reader
may form a pretty good guess of my age), —it cannot
be, I say, from want of experience tletr I arm unable to




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.            119
describe, step by step, the progress of a love-affair; nay,
I am perfectly certain that I could, if I chose, make a
most astonishing and heart-rending liber amoris; but,
nevertheless, I always feel a vast repugnance to the following out of a subject of this kind, which I attribute
to a natural diffidence and sense of shame that prevent
me from enlarging on a theme that has in it something
sacred-certain arcana which an honest man, although
initiated into them, should not divulge.
If such coy scruples and blushing delicacy prevent
one from passing the threshold even of an honourable
love, and setting down, at so many guineas or shillings
per page, the pious emotions and tendernesses of two
persons chastely and legally engaged in sighing, ogling,
hand-squeezing, kissing, and so forth (for with such
outward signs I believe that the passion of love is expressed),-if a man feel, I say, squeamish about describing an innocent love, he is doubly disinclined to describe
a guilty one; and I have always felt a kind of loathing
for the skill of such geniuses as Rousseau or Richardson, who could paint with such painful accuracy all the
struggles and woes of Eloise and Clarissa, - all the
wicked arts and triumphs of such scoundrels as Lovelace.
We have in this history a scoundrelly Lovelace in
the person going by the name of George  Brandon, and
a dear, tender, innocent, yielding creature on whom he
is practising his infernal skill; and whether the public
feel any sympathy for her or not, the writer can only
say, for his part, that he heartily loves and respects
poor little Caroline, and is quite unwilling to enter into
any of the slow, painful, wicked details of the courtship
which passed hbet-ween her and her lover.




120         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
Not that there was any wickedness on her side, poor
girl! or that she did any thing but follow the natural
and beautiful impulses of an honest little female heart,
that leads it to trust, and love, and worship a being of
the other sex, whom the eager fancy invests with all
sorts of attributes of superiority. There was no wild,
conceited tale that Brandon told Caroline which she
did not believe, —no virtue which she could conceive or
had read of in novels with which she did not endow
him. Many long talks had they, and many sweet,
stolen interviews, during the periods in which Caroline's
father and mother were away making merry at the
house of their son-in-law; and while she was left under
the care of her virtue and of Becky the maid. Indeed,
it was a blessing that the latter was left in the joint guardianship. For Becky, who had such an absurd opinion of her young lady's merits as to fancy that she was
a fit wife for any gentleman of the land, and that any
gentleman might be charmed and fall in love with her,
had some instinct, or possibly some experience, as to
the passions and errors of youth, and warned Caroline
accordingly. "If he's really in love, Miss, and I think
he be, he'll marry you; if he won't marry you, he's a
rascal, and you're too good for him, and must have nothing to do with him." To which Caroline replied,
that she was sure Mr. Brandon was the most angelic,
high-principled of human beings, and that she was sure
his intentions were of the most honourable description.
We have before described what Mr. Brandon's character was. He was not a man of honourable intentions
at all. But lie was a gentleman of so excessively eager
a temperament, that if properly resisted by a practised




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          121
coquette, or by a woman of strong principles, he would
sacrifice any thing to obtain his ends,-nay, marry to
obtain them; and, considering his disposition, it is only
a wonder that he had not been married a great number of times already; for he had been in love perpetually
since his seventeenth year. By which the reader may
pretty well appreciate the virtue or the prudence of the
ladies with whom  hitherto our inflammable young
gentleman had had to do.
The fruit, then, of all his stolen interviews, of all his
prayers, vows, and protestations to Caroline, had been
only this,-that she loved him; but loved him as an
honest girl should, and was ready to go to the altar
with him when he chose. He talked about his family,
his peculiar circumstances, his proud father's curse.
Little Caroline only sighed, and said her dearest George
must wait until he could obtain his parent's consent.
When pressed harder, she would burst into tears, and
wonder how one so good and affectionate as he could
propose to her any thing unworthy of them both. It
is clear to see that the young lady ead read a vast number of novels, and knew something of the nature of
love; and that she had a good principle and honesty
of her own, which set her lover's schemes at naught:
indeed, she had both these advantages,-her education,
such as it was, having given her the one, and her
honest nature having endowed her with the other.
On the day when Fitch came down to Caroline
with his verses, Brandon had pressed these unworthy
propositions upon her.  She had torn herself violently
away from him, and rushed to the door; but the poor
little thing fell before she could reach it, screaming in a
6




122         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
fit of hysterics, which brought Becky to her aid, and
caused Brandon to leave her, abashed.  He went out;
she watched him go, and stole up into his room, and
laid on his table the first letter she had ever written to
him. It was written in pencil, in a trembling, schoolgirl hand, and contained simply the following words:"George, you have almost broken my heart. Leave me if
you will, and if you dare not act like an honest man. If ever
you speak to me so again as you did this morning, I declare
solemnly before Heaven, I will take poison.   C."
Indeed, the poor thing had read romances to some
purpose; without them, it is probable she never would
have thought of such a means of escape from a lover's
persecutions: and there was something in the girl's
character that made Brandon feel sure that she would
keep her promise. How the words agitated him! He
felt a violent mixture of raging disappointment and admiration, and loved the girl ten thousand times more
than ever.
Mr. Brandon had scarcely finished the reading of
this document, and was yet agitated by the various
passions which the perusal of it created, when the door
of his apartment was violently flung open, and some
one came in. Brandon started, and turned round, with
a kind of dread that Caroline had already executed her
threat, and that a messenger was come to inform him
of her death. Mr. Andrea Fitch was the intruder. His
hat was on-his eyes were glaring; and if the beards
of men did stand on end any where but in poems and
romances, his, no doubt, would have formed round his
countenance a bristling allburn halo.  As it was, Fitch




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.            123
only looked astonishingly fierce, as he stalked up to
the table, his hands behind his back.  When he had
arrived at this barrier between himself and Mr. Brandon he stopped, and, speechless, stared that gentleman
in the face.
"May I beg, Mr Fitch, to know what has procured
me the honour of this visit?" exclaimed Mr. Brandon,
after a brief pause of wonder.
"Honour!-ha, ha, ha!" growled Mr. Fitch, in a
most sardonic, discordant way-" honour!"
"Well, sir, honour or no honour, I can tell you, my
good man, it certainly is no pleasure!" said Brandon,
testily.  "In plain English, then, what the devil has
brought you here?"
Fitch plumped the album down on the table close
to Mr. Brandon's nose, and said, " That has brought
me, sir-that halbum, sir; or, I ask your pardon, that
a —albul —ha, ha, ha!"
" Oh, I see!" said Mr. Brandon, who could not refirain from  a smile.    "It was a cruel trick of mine,
Fitch, to rob you of your verses; but all's fair in love."
"Fitch, sir! dont Fitch me, sir! I wish to be hintimate honly with men of h-honour, not with forgers,
sir; not with'artless miscreants! Miscreants, sir, I repeat; vipers, sir; b-b-b-blackguards, sir!"
"Blackguards, sir!" roared Mr. Brandon, bouncing
up; "blackguards, you dirty Cocknay mountebank!.
Quit the room, sir, or I'll fling you out of the window!"
" Will you, sir? try, sir; I wish you may get it, sir.
I'm  a hartist, sir, and as good a man as you. Miscreant, forger', traitor, come on!"




124         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
And Mr. Brandolo would have come on, but for a
circumstance that deterred him; and this was, that Mr.
Fitch drew fiom his bosom a long, sharp, shining, waving poniard of the middle ages, that formed a part of
his artistical properties, and with which he had armed
himself for this encounter.
"Come on, sir!" shrieked Fitch, brandishing this
fearful weapon.  "Lay a finger on me, and I bury this
blade in your treacherous.'art. Ha! do you tremble?"
Indeed the aristocratic Mr. Brandon turned somewhat pale.
" Well, well," said he, "what do you want?  lDo
you suppose I am to be bullied by your absurd melodramatic airs?  It was, after all, but a joke, sir, and I
am sorry that it has offended you.  Can I say more?
-what shall I do?"
"You shall hapologise; not only to me, sir, but
you shall tell Miss Caroline, in my presence, that you
stole those verses from me, and used them quite unauthorised by me."
" Look you, Mr. Fitch, I will make you another set
of verses quite as good, if you like; but what you ask
is impossible."
"I will'asten myself, then, to Miss Caroline, and
acquaint her with your dastardly forgery, sir. I will
hopen her heyes, sir!"
"You may hopen her heyes, as you call them, if
you please: but I tell you fairly, that the young lady
will credit me rather than you; and if you swear
ever so much that the verses are yours, I must say
that -"
" Say what, sir?"




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.            125
"Say that you lie, sir!" said Mr. Brandon, stamping on the ground.  "I'll make you other verses, I repeat; but this is all I can do, and now go about your
business!"
"Curse your verses, sir! liar and forger yourself!
Hare you a coward as well, sir? A coward! yes, I
believe you are; or will you meet me to-morrow morning like a man, and give me satisfaction for this binfamous hinsult?"
"Sil," said Mr. Brandon, with the utmost stateliness and scorn, " if you wish to murder me as you do
the king's English,. I won't balk you. Although a
man of my rank is not called upon to meet a blackguard of your condition, I will, nevertheless, grant
you your will. But have a care; by Heavens, I wont
spare you, and I can hit an ace of hearts at twenty
paces!"
" Two can play at that," said Mr. Fitch, callnly;
"and if I can't hit a hace of'arts at twenty paces, I
can hit a man at twelve, and to-morrow I'll try;" with
which, giving Mr. Brandon a look of the highest contempt, the young painter left the room.
What were Mr. Brandon's thoughts, as his antagonist left him? Strange to say, rather agreeable. He
had much too great a contempt for Fitch to suppose
that so low a fellow should ever think seriously of
fighting him, and reasoned with himself thus:"I This Fitch, I know, will go off to Caroline, tell
her the whole transaction, frighten her with the tale of
a duel, and then she and I shall have a scene. I will
tell her the truth about those infernal verses, menace
death, blood, and danger, and then -"




126         A SHABBY IGENTEEL STORY.
Here he fell back into a charming revery; the wily
fellow knew what power such a circumstance would
give him over a poor weak girl, who would do any
thing rather than that her beloved should risk his life.
And with this dastardly speculation as to the price he
should ask for refraining from meeting Fitch, he was
entertaining himself; when, much to his annoyance,
that gentleman again came into the room.
" Mr. Brandon," said he, " you have insulted me in
the grossest and cruellest way."
"Well, sir, are you come to apologise?" said
Brandon, sneeringly.
"No, I'm not come to apologise, Mr. Aristocrat~:
it's past that. I'm come to say this, sir, that I take
you for a coward; and that, unless you will give me
your solemn word of honour not to mention a word of
this quarrel to Miss Gann, which might prevent our
meeting, I will never leave you till we do fight!"
" This is outrageous, sir!  Leave the room, or by
Heavens I'll not meet you at all 1"
" Heasy, sir; easy, I beg your pardon, I can force
you to that!"
"And how, pray sir?"
"Why, in the first place, here's a stick, and I'll'orsewhip you; and here are a pair of pistols, and we
can fight now!"
" Well, sir, I give you my honour," said Mr. Brandon, in a diabolical rage; and added, "I'll meet you'to-morrow, not now; and you need not be afraid that
I'll miss you!"
"Hadew, sir," said the chivalrous little Fitch;
bon giorno, sir, as we used to say at Rome."  And




A SHABBY. GENT''EEL S'ORY.        127
so, for the second'time,'he left' Mr. Brandon, who
did not like very well the extraordinary courage he had
displayed.
" What the deuce has exasperated the fellow so.1"
thought Brandon.
Why, in the first place, he had crossed Fitch in
love; and, in the second, he had sneered at his pronunciation and his gentility, and Fitch's little soul was
in a fury which nothing but blood would allay: he was
determined, for the sake of his hart and his lady, to
bring this proud champion down.
So Brandon was at last left to his cogitations;
when, confusion! about five o'clock came another knock
at his door.
" Come in!" growled the owner of the lodgings.
A sallow, blear-eyed, rickety, undersized creature,
tottering upon a pair of high-heeled lacquered boots,
and supporting himself upon an immense gold-knobbed
cane, entered the-room with his hat on one side and a
jaunty air. -It was a white hat with a broad brim, and
under it fell a great deal of greasy lank air, that
shrouded the cheek-bones of the wearer.  The little
man had no beard to his chin, appeared about twenty
years of age, and might weigh, stick and all, some
seven stone. If you wish to know. how this exquisite
was dressed, I have the pleasure to inform you that he
wore a great sky-blue embroidered satin stock, in the
which figured a carbuncle that looked -like a lambent
gooseberry.  He had a shawl-waistcoat of many
colours;, a pair of loose, blue trowsers, neatly strapped
to show his little feet; a brown cut-away coat with
brass buttons, that fitted tight round a spider waist;




128        A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
and over all a white or drab surtout, with a sable
collar and cuffs, from which latter on each hand peeped
five little fingers covered with lemon-coloured kid
gloves.  One of these hands he held constantly to
his little chest; and, with a hoarse, thin voice, he piped
out,
"' George, my buck! how goes it?"
We have been thus particular in our description of
the costume of this individual (whose inward man
strongly corresponded with his manly and agreeable
exterior), because he was the person whom Mr. Brandon
most respected in the world.
" CINQBARS!" exclaimed our hero; "why, what the
deuce has brought you to Margate?"'"Fwendship, my old cock!' said the Honourable
Augustus Frederick Ringwood, commonly called Viscount Cinqbars, for indeed it was he; "fwendship and
the City of Canterbuwy steamer!" and herewith his
lordship held out his right-hand fore-finger to Brandon,
who inclosed it most cordially in all his.  "Wathn't it
good of me, now, George, to come down and conthole
you in thith curthed, thtupid place-hay now?" said
my lord, after these salutations.
Brandon swore he was very glad to see him, which
was very true, for he had no sooner set eyes upon his
lordship, than he had determined to borrow as much
money fiom him as ever he could induce the young nobleman to part with.
"I'll tell you how it wath, my boy; you thee I
wath thopping at Longth, when I found, by Jove, that
the governor wath come to town! Cuth me if I didn't
meet the infarnal old family dwag, with my mother,




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.         129
thithterth, and all, ath I wath dwiving a hack-cab with
Polly Tomkinth in the Pawk! Tho when I got home,'Hang it!' thayth I to Tufthunt.'Tom, my boy,'
thaith I,'I've just theen the governor, and must be
off!'' What, back to Ockthford.' thaith Tom.'No,'
thaith I,' that won't do. Abroad-to Jewicho-any
where. Egad, I have it!  I'll go down to Margate
and thee old George, that I will.' And tho off I came
the very nexth day; and here I am, and thereth dinner waiting for uth at the hotel, and thixth bottleth
of champaign in ithe, and thum thalmon: tho you
mutht come."
To this proposition Mr. Brandon readily agreed,
being glad enough of the prospect of a good dinner
and some jovial society, for he was low and disturbed
in spirits, and so promised to dine with his friend at the
Sun.
The two gentlemen conversed for some time longer.
Mr. Brandon was a shrewd fellow, and knew perfectly
well a fact, of which, no doubt, the reader has a notion
-namely, that Lord Clinqbars was a ninny; but,
nevertheless, Brandon esteemed him highly as a lord.
We pardon stupidity in lords; nature or instinct, however sarcastic a man may be among ordinary persons,
renders him towards men of quality benevolently blind:
a divinity hedges not only the king, but the whole
peerage.
"That's the girl, I suppose," said my lord, knowingly winking at Brandon; "that little pale girl, who
let ile in, I mean. A nice little filly, upon my honour,
Georgy, my black!"
" Oh-that —yes —I wrote, I think, something about
9*




130        A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
her," said Brandon, blushing slightly; for, indeed, he
now began to wish that his friend should make no
comments upon a young lady with whom he was so
much in love.
"I suppose it's all up now?' continued my lord,
looking still more knowing. "All over with her, hay?
I saw it was by her looks, in a minute."
"Indeed you do me a great deal too much honour.
Miss-ah-Miss Gann is a very respectable young
person, and I would not for the world have you to suppose that I would do any thing that should the least
injure her character."
At this speech, Lord Cinqbars was at first much
puzzled; but, in considering it, was fully convinced that
Brandon was a deeper dog than ever. Boiling with impatience to know the particulars of this delicate intrigue,
this cunning diplomatist determined he would pump the
whole story out of Brandon by degrees; and so, in the
course of half an hour's conversation that the young
men had together, Cinqbars did not make less than
forty allusions to the subject that interested him. At
last Brandon cut him short rather haughtily, by begging that he would make no further allusions to the
subject, as it was one that was excessively disagreeable
to him.
In fact, there was no mistake about it now. George
Brandon was in love with Caroline. He felt that he
was while he blushed at his friend's alluding to her,
while he grew indignant at the young lord's coarse
banter about her.
Turning the conversation to another point, he asked
Cinqbars about his vovage, and whether he had brought




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          181
any companion with him  to Margate; whereupon my
lord related all his feats in London, how he had been to
the watchhouse, how many, bottles of champaign he had
drunk, how he had "milled" a policeman, &c. &c.; and
he concluded by saying that he had come down with
Tom Tufthunt, who was at the inn at that very moment
smoking a cigar.
This did not increase Brandon's good humour; and
when Cinqbars mentioned his friend's name, Brandon
saluted it mentally with a hearty curse.  These two
gentlemen hated each other of old. Tufthunt was a
small college man of no family, with a foundation fellowship; and it used to be considered that a sporting
fellow of a small college was a sad, raffish, disreputable
character.  Tufthunt, then, was a vulgar fellow, and
Brandon a gentleman, so they hated each other. They
were both toadies of the same nobleman, so they hated
each other. They had had some quarrel. at college.
about a disputed bet, which Brandon knew he owed,
and so they hated each other; and in their words
about it Brandon had threatened to horsewhip Tufthunt,
and called him a " sneaking, swindling, small collegesnob;" and so little Tufthunt, who had not resented the
words, hated Brandon far more than Brandon hated
him. The latter only had a contempt for his rival, and
voted him a profound bore and vulgarian.
So, although Mr. Tufthunt did not choose to frequent Mr. Brandon's rooms, he was very anxious that
his friend, the young lord, should not fall into his old
bear-leader's hands again, and came down to Margate
to counteract any influence which the arts of Brandon
might acquire.




132         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
" Curse the fellow I" thought Tufthunt in his heart
(there was a fine reciprocity of curses between the two
men); " he has drawn Cinqbars already for fifty pounds
this year, and will have some half of his last remittance,
if I don't keep a look-out, the swindling thief!"
And so frightened was Tufthunt at the notion of
Brandon's return to power and dishonest use of it, that
he was at the time on the point of writing to Lord
Ringwood to tell him of his son's doings, only he
wanted some money deucedly himself. Of Mr. Tufthunt's physique and history it is necessary merely to
say, that he was the son of a country attorney who was
agent to a lord; he had been sent to a foundationschool, where he distinguished himself for ten years, by
fighting and being flogged more than any boy of the
five hundred.  From the foundation-school he went to
college with an exhibition, which was succeeded by a
fellowship, which was to end in a living. In his person Mr. Tufthunt was short and bow-legged; he wore
a sort of clerico-sporting costume, consisting of a black
straight-cut coat, and light drab breeches, with a vast
number of buttons at the ancles; a sort of dress much
affectioned by sporting gentlemen of the university in
the author's time.
Well, Brandon said he had some letters to write,
and promised to follow his friend, which he did; but,
if the truth must be told, so infatuated was the young
man become with his passion, with the resistance he
had met with, and so nervous from the various occurrences of the morning, that he passed the half hour
during which he was free fiom  Cinqbar's society in
kneeling, imploring, weeping at Caroline's little garret



A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          133
door, which had remained piteously closed to him. He
was wild with disappointment, mortification-mad,
longing to see her. The cleverest coquette in Europe
could not have so inflamed him. His first act on entering the dinner-room was to drink off a large tumbler of
champaign; and when Cinqbars, in his elegant way,
began to rally him upon his wildness, Mr. Brandon only
growled and cursed with frightful vehemency, and applied again to the bottle. His face, which had been
quite white, grew a bright red; his tongue, which had
been tied, began to chatter vehemently; before the fish
was off the table, Mr. Brandon showed strong symptoms of intoxication; before the dessert appeared, Mr.
Tufthunt, winking knowingly to Lord Cinqbars, had
began to draw him out; and Brandon, with a number
of shrieks and oaths, was narrating the history of his
attachment.
"Look you, Tufthunt," said he, wildly; "hang you,
I hate you, but I must talk! I've been, for two months
now, in this cursed hole; in a rickety lodging, with a
vulgar family; as vulgar, by Jove, as you are yourself?"
Mr. Tufthunt did not like this style of address half
so much as Lord Cinqbars, who was laughing immoderately, and to whom Tufthunt whispered rather sheepishly, " Pooh, pooh, he's drunk!"
" Drunk! no, sir," yelled:out Brandon; " I'm mad,
though, with the prudery of a little devil of fifteen, who
has cost me more trouble than it would take me to
seduce every one of your sisters-ha, ha! every one of
the Miss Tufthunt's, by Jove! Miss Suky Tufthunt,
Miss Dolly Tufthunt, Miss Anna-Maria Tufthunt, and




134         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
the whole bunch; Come, sir, don't sit scowling at me,
or I'll brain you with the decanter."  (Tufthunt was
down again on the sofa.)  "I've borne with the girl's
mother, and her father, and her sisters, and a cook in
the house, and a scoundrel of a painter, that I'm going
to fight about her; and for what?-why, for a letter,
which says,' George, I'll kill myself! George, I'll kill
myself!-ha, ha! a little devil like that killing herself
-ha, ha! and I-I who —who adore her, who am mad
for -  "
" Mad, I believe he is," said Tufthunt; and at this
moment Mr. Brandon was giving the most unequivocal
signs of madness; he plunged his head into the corner
of the sofa, and was kicking his feet violently into the
cushions.
"You don't understand him, Tufty, my boy," said
Lord Cinqbars, with a very superior air.  "You ain't
up to these things, I tell you; and I suspect, by Jove,
that you never were in love in your life. I know what
it is, sir. And as for Brandon, Heaven bless you! I've
often seen him in that way when we were abroad.
When he has an intrigue, he's -mad about it. Let me
see, there was the Countess Fritzch, at Baden-Baden;
there was the woman at Pau; and that girl-at Paris,
was it — no, at Vienna. He went on just so about
them all; but I'11 tell you what, when we do the thing,
we do it easier, my boy, hay?"
And so saying, my lord cocked up his little, sallow,
beardless face, into a grin, and then fell to eyeing a
glass of execrable claret across a candle. An intrigue,
as he called it, was the little creature's delight; and,
until the time should arrive when he could have one
nimself, he loved to talk of those of his friends.




A SHABBY GENTEEL'1'0TRY.        1.35
As for Tufthunlt, we may fancy how that gentleman's previous affection for Brandon was increased by
the latter's brutal addresses to him. Brandon continued to drink and to talk, though not always in the
sentimental way in which he had spoken about his loves
and injuries. Growing presently madly jocose as he
had before been madly melancholy, he narrated to the
two gentlemen the particulars of his quarrel with Fitch,
mimicking the little painter's manner in an excessively
comic way, and giving the most ludicrous account of
his person, kept his companions in a roar of laughter.
Cinqbars swore that he would see the fun in the morning, and agreed that if the painter wanted a second,
either he or Tufthunt would act for him.
Now my Lord Cinqbars had an excessively clever
servant, a merry rogue, whom he had discovered in the
humble capacity of scout's assistant at Christ-church,
and raised to be his valet.  The chief duties of the
valet were to black his lord's beautiful boots, that we
have admired so much, and to put his lordship to bed
when overtaken with liquor.  IHe heard every word of
the young men's talk (it being his habit, much encouraged by his master, to join occasionally in the conversation); and, in the course of the night, when at supper with Monsieur Donnerwetter and Mdlle. Augustine,
he related every word of the talk abovestairs, mimicking Brandon quite as cleverly as the latter had mimicked
Fitch. When, then, after making his company laugh
by describing Brandon's love-agonies, Mr. Tom informed
them how that gentleman had a rival, with whom he
was going to fight a duel the next morning —an artistfellow with an immense beard, whose name was Fitch,




136         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
to his surprise Mdlle. Augustine burst into a scream of
laughter, and exclaimed, "Feesh, Feesh! c'est notre
homme! —it is our man, sare! Saladin, remember you
Mr. Fish!"
Saladin said gravely, " Missa Fis, Missa Fis! know
um quite well, Missa Fis! Painter-man, big beard, gib
Saladin bit injy-rubby, Missis lub Missa Fis!"
It was too true, the fat lady was the famous MRS.
CARRICKFERGUS, and she had come all the way from
Rome in pursuit of her adored painter.
CHAPTER  IX.
WHICH THREATENS DEATH, BUT CONTAINS A GREAT
DEAL OF MARRYING.
As the morrow was to be an eventful day in the lives
of all the heroes and heroines of this history, it will be
as well to state how they passed the night previous.
Brandon, like the English before the battle of Hastings,
spent-the evening in feasting and carousing; and Lord
Cinqbars, at twelve o'clock, his usual time after his
usual quantity of drink, was carried up to bed by the
servant kept by his lordship for that purpose. Mr.
Tufthunt took this as a hint to wish Brandon good
night, at the same time promising that he and Cinqbars would not fail him in the morning about the duel.
Shall we confess that Mr. Brandon, whose excitement now began to wear off, and who had a dreadful




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          137
headache, did not at all relish the idea of the morrow's
combat?
"If," said he, " I shoot this crack-brained painter,
all the world will cry out,' Murder!'- If he shoot me,
all the world will laugh at me! And yet, confound
him! he seems so bent upon blood, that there is no
escaping a meeting."
At any rate, Brandon thought, there will be no
harm in a letter to Caroline. So, on arriving at home,
he sat down and wrote a very pathetic one; saying,
that he fought in her cause, and if he died, his last
breath should be for her.  So having written, he
jumped into bed, and did not sleep one single wink all
night.
As Brandon passed his night like the English, Fitch
went through his like the Normans, in fasting, and
mortification, and meditation.  The poor fellow likewise indited a letter to Caroline; a very long and
strong one, interspersed with pieces of poetry, and containing the words we have just heard him utter out of
the window. Then he thought about making his will;
but he recollected, and, indeed, it was a bitter thought
to the young man, that there was not one single soul
in the wide world who cared for him-except, indeed,
thought he, after a pause, that poor Mrs. Carrickfergus
at Rome, who did like me, and was the only person
who ever bought my drawings. So he made over all
his sketches to her, regulated his little property, found
that he had money enough to pay his washerwoman;
and so, having disposed of his worldly concerns, Mr.
Fitch also jumped into bed, and speedily fell into a deep
sleep. Brandon could hear him snoring all night, and




138         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
did not feel a bit the more comfortable because his antagonist took matters so unconcernedly.
Indeed, our poor paintel had no guilty thoughts in
his breast, nor no particular revenge against Brandon,
now that the first pangs of mortified vanity were over.
But, with all his vagaries, he was a man of spirit; and
after what had passed in the morning, the treason that
had been done him, and the insults heaped upon him,
he felt that the duel was irrevocable. He had a misty
notion, imbibed somewhere, that it was the part of a
gentleman's duty to fight duels, and had long been
seeking for an opportunity.  "Suppose I do die," said
he, " what's the odds? Caroline doesn't care for me.
Dr. Wackerbart's boys won't have their drawing-lesson
next Wednesday; and no more will be said of poor
Andrea."
And now for the garret. Caroline was wrapped
up in her own woes, poor little soul! and in the arms
of the faithful Becky cried herself to sleep. But the
slow hours passed on; and the tide, which had been
out, now' came in; and the lamps waxed fainter and
fainter; and the watchman cried six o'clock; and the
sun arose and gilded the minaretsl of Margate; and
Becky got up and scoured the steps, and the kitchen,
and made ready the lodgers' breakfasts; and at halfpast eight there came a thundering rap at the door, and
two gentlemen, one with a mahogany case under his
arm, asked for Mr. Brandon, and were shown up to his
room by the astonished Becky, who was bidden by
Mr. Brandon to get breakfast for three.
The thundering rap awakened Mr. Fitch, who rose
and dressed himself in his best clothes, gave a twist of




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          139
the curling-tongs to his beard, and conducted himself
throughout with perfect coolness. Nine o'clock struck,
and he wrapped his cloak round him, and put under
his cloak that pair of foils which we have said he possessed, and did not know  in the least how to use.
However, he had heard his camarades d'atelier, at Paris
and Rome, say that they were the best weapons for
duelling; and so forth he issued.
Becky was in the passage as he passed down; she
was always scrubbing there. "Becky," said Fitch, in a
hollow voice, " here is a letter; if I should not return
in half an hour, give it to Miss Gann, and promise on
your honour that she shall not have it sooner." Becky
promised. She thought the painter was at some of
his mad tricks. He went out of the door saluting her
gravely.
But he went only a few steps and came back again:
"Becky," said he, "you-you've always been a good
gil:I to me, and here's something for you; per'aps we
shan't-we shan't see each other for some time." The
tears were in his eyes as he spoke, and he handed her
over seven shillings and fourpence halfpenny, being
every farthing he possessed in the world.
"Well, I'm  sure!" said Becky; and that was all
she said, for she pocketed the money, and fell to scrubbing again.
Presently the three gentlemen up stairs came clattering down.  "Lock bless you, don't be in such a'urry!" exclaimed Becky; "it's full herly yet, and the
water's not biling."
"We'll come back to breakfast, my dealr," said one,
a little gentleman in high-heeled boots; "and, I thay,




140         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
mind and have thum  thoda-water;" and he walked
out, twirling his cane. His fiiend with the case followed him. Mr. Brandon came last.
He too turned back after he had gone a few paces.
"Becky," said he, in a grave voice, "if I am not back
in half an hour, give that to Miss Gann."
Becky was fairly flustered by this; and after turning the letters round and round, and peeping into the
sides, and looking at the seals very hard, she like a fool
determined that she would not wait half an hour, but
carry them up to Miss Caroline; and so up she mounted, finding pretty Caroline in the act of lacing her
stays.
And the consequences of Becky's conduct was that
little Carry left off lacing her stays (a sweet little figure
the poor thing looked in them; but that is neither here
nor there), took the letters, looked at one which she
threw down directly; at the other, which' she eagerly
opened, and having read a line or two, gave a loud
scream, and fell down dead in a fainting fit!
Waft us, O Muse, to Mr. Wright's hotel, and quick
narrate what chances there befel. Very early in the
morning Mdlle. Augustine made her appearance in the
apartment of Miss Runt, and with great glee informed
that lady of the event which was about to take place.
"Figurez vous, mademoiselle, que n6tre homme va se
battre-oh, but it will be droll to see him sword in
hand!"
" Don't plague me with your ojous servants' quarrels, Augustine; that horrid courier is always quarrelling and tipsy."




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          141
"Mon- Dieu, qu'elle est bete 1" exclaimed Augustine: "but I tell you it is not the courier; it is he,
l'objet, le peintre dont madame s'est amourach6e, Monsieur Feesh."
"Mr. Fitch!" cried Runt, jumping up in bed, " Mr.
Fitch going to fight! Augustine, my stockings-quick,
my robe-de-chambre-tell me when, how, where 2"
And so Augustine told her that the combat was to
take place at nine that morning, behind the Windmill,
and that the gentleman with whom Mr. Fitch was to
go out, had been dining at the hotel the night previous,
in company with the little milor, who was to be his
second.
Quick as lightning flew Runt to the chamber of her
patroness. That lady was in a profound sleep; and I
leave you to imagine what were her sensations on
awaking and hearing this dreadful tale.
Such is the force of love, that although, for many
years, Mrs. Carrickfergus had never left her bed before
noon, although in all her wild wanderings after the painter
she, nevertheless, would have her tea and cutlet in bed,
and her doze likewise, before she set forth on a journey,
she now started up in an instant, forgetting her nap,
mutton-chops, every thing, and began dressing with a
promptitude which can only be equalled by Harlequin
when disguising himself in a pantomime. She would
have had an attack of nerves, only she knew there was
no time for it; and I do believe that twenty minutes
were scarcely over her head, as the saying is, when her
bonnet and cloak were on, and with her whole suite,
and an inn-waiter or two whom she pressed into her
service, she was on full trot to the field of action.




142         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
For twenty years before, and from that day to this,
Marianne Carrickfergus never had or has walked so
quickly.
"Hullo, here'th a go!" exclaimed Lord Viscount
Cinqbars, as they arrived on the ground behind the
windmills; "cuth me, there'th only one man!"
This was indeed the case: Mr. Fitch, in his great
cloak, was pacing slowly up and down the grass, his
shadow stretching far in the sunshine. Mr. Fitch was
alone too; for the fact is, he had never thought about a
second. This he admitted frankly, bowing with much
majesty to the company as they came up. " But that,
gents," said lie, "will make no difference, I hope, nor
prevent fair play from being done." And, flinging off
his cloak, he produced the foils, from which the buttons had been taken off. He went up to Brandon, and
was for offering him one of the weapons, just as they
do at the theatre.  Brandon stepped back, rather
abashed; Cinqbars looked posed; Tufthunt delighted:
" Ecod," said he, "I hope the bearded fellow will give
it him."
"' Excuse me, sir," said Mr. Brandon; " as the challenged party, I demand pistols."
Mr. Fitch, with great presence of mind and gracefulness, stuck the swords into the grass.
"Oh, pithtolth of courth," lisped my lord; and
presently called aside Tufthunt, to whom he whispered
something  in  great glee; to which Tufthunt objected at first, saying, "No, d- him, let him fight."
"And your fellowship'and living, Tufty, my boy," interposedl my lord; and then they walked on. After a




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          143
couple of minutes, during which Mr. Fitch was employed in examining Mr. Brandon from the toe upwards to the crown cf his, head, or hat, just as Mr. Widdicombe does Mr. Cartlich, before those two gentlemen
proceed to join in combat on the boards of Astley's
Amphitheatre (indeed, poor Fitch had no other standard
of chivalry)-when Fitch had concluded this examination, of which Brandon did not know what the deuce
to make, Lord Cinqbars came back to the painter, and
gave him a nod.
"Sir," said he, "as you have come unprovided with
a second, I, with your leave, will act as one. My name
is Cinqbars-Lord Cinqbars; and though I had come
to the ground to act as the friend of my friend here,
Mr. Tufthunt will take that duty upon him; and as it
appears to me that there can be no other end to this unhappy affair, we will proceed at once."
It is a marvel how Lord Cinqbars ever made such a
gentlemanly speech. When Fitch heard that he was
to have a lord for a second, he laid his hand on his
chest, and vowed it was the greatest h-honour of his
life; and was turning round to walk towards his
ground, when my lord, gracefully thrusting his tongue
into his cheek, and bringing his thumb up to his nose,
twiddled about his fingers for a moment, and said to
Brandon, " Gammon."
Mr. Brandon smiled, and heaved a great, deep, refreshing sigh. The truth was, a load was taken off his
mind, of which he was very glad to be rid; for there
was something in the coolness of that crazy painter that
our fashionable gentleman did not at all approve of.
"I think, Mr. Tufthunt," said Lord Cinqbars, very




144         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
loud, that considering the gravity of the case-threatening horsewhipping, you know, lie on both sides, and
lady in the case-I think we must have the barrierduel."
"What's that?" said Fitch.
"The simplest thing in the world; and," in a whisper, "let me add, the best for you. Look here. We
shall put you at twenty paces, and a hat between you.
You walk forward and fire when you like. When you
fire, you stop; and you both have the liberty of walking up to the hat. Nothing can be more fair than
that."
" Very well," said Fitch; and, with a great deal of
preparation, the pistols were loaded.
"I'll tell you what," whispered Cinqbars to Fitch,
"if I hadn't chosen this way you were a dead man. If
he fires, he hits you dead. You must not let him fire,
but have him down first."
"I'll try," said Fitch, who was a little pale, and
thanked his noble fiiend for his counsel. The hat was
placed, and the men took their places.
"Are you all ready?"
"Ready," said Brandon.
"Advance when I drop my handkerchief." And
presently down it fell, Lord Cinqbars crying, "Now!"
The combatants both advanced, each covering his
man. When he had gone about six paces, Fitch stopped, fired, and-nmissed. He grasped his pistol tightly,
for he was very near dropping it; and then stood
biting his lips, and looking at Brandon, who grinned
savagely, and walked up to the hat.
"Will you retract what you said of me yesterday,
you villain?" said Brandon.




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          145
"I can't."
"Will you beg for life?"
" No."
"Then take a minute, and make your peace with
God, for you are a dead man."
Fitch dropped his pistol to the ground, shut his
eyes for a moment, and flingiwg up his chest, and
clenching his fists, said, "' Now I'm ready."
Brandon fired-and, strange to say, Andrea Fitch,
as he gasped and staggered backwards, saw, or thought
he saw, Mr. Brandon's pistol flying up in the air, where
it went off, and heard that gentleman yell out an immense oath in a very audible voice. When he came
to himself, a thick stick was lying at Brandon's feet;
Mr. 1Brandon was capering about the ground, and cursing and shaking a maimed elbow, and a whole posse
of people were rushing upon them. The first was the
great German courier, who rushed upon Brandon, and
shook that gentleman, and shouting, "Schelm! spitzbube! blagardt! goward!" in his ear. "If I had not
drown my stick and brogen his damt arm, he wod have
murdered dat boor young man."
The German's speech contained two unfounded assertions; in the first place, Brandon would not haye
murdered Fitch; and, secondly, his arm was not broken- he had merely received a blow on that part which
anatomists call the funny-bone; a severe blow, which
sent the pistol spinning int9 the air, and caused the
gentleman to screavm with pain. Two waiters seized
upon the nwmrderer too: a baker, who had been brought
fi'or his;'unds; a bellman; several boys, —were yelling round him, and shouting out,," Pole-e-eace!"
7




146         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
Next to these came, panting and blowing, some
women.   Could Fitch believe his eyes? —that fat
woman in red satin!-yes —no-yes-he was, he was
in the arms of Mrs. Carrickfergus!
The particulars of this meeting are too delicate to
relate. Suffice it to say that somehow matters were
explained, Mr. Brandon was let loose, and a fly was
presently seen to drive up, into which Mr. Fitch consented to enter with his new-found friend.
Brandon had some good movements in him. As
Fitch was getting into the carriage, he walked up to
him and held out his left hand:!" I can't offer you my
right hand, Mr. Fitch, for that cursed courier's stick has
maimed it; but I hope you will allow me to apologise for
my shameful conduct to you, and to say that I never in
my life met a more gallant fellow than yourself."
"That he is, by Jove 1" said my Lord Cinqbars.
Fitch blushed as red as a peony, and trembled very
much. " And yet," said he, " you would have murdered
me just now, Mr. Brandon.  I can't take your'and,
sir."
" Why, you great flat," said my lord, wisely, " he
couldn't have hurt you, nor you him. There wath no
ballth in the pithtolth."
"What," said Fitch, starting back, " do you gents
call that a joke? Oh, my lord, my lord!" And here
poor Fitch actually burst into tears on the red satin
bosom of Mrs. Carrickfergus: she and Miss Runt were
crying as hard as they could. And so, amidst much
shouting and huzzaing, the fly drove away.
"What a blubbering, abthurd donkey!" said Cinq
bars, Ait]-h.is usual judgment  " aint he, Tufthunt?"




A SHABBY CGENT'EEL STORY.         147
Tufthunt, of course, said yes; but Brandon was in
a virtuous mood. "By Heavens! I think his tears do
the man honour. When I came out with him  this
morning, I intended to act fairly by him. And as for
Mr. Tufthunt, who calls a man a coward because he
cries-Mr. Tufthunt knows well what a pistol is, and
that some men don't care to face it, brave as they are."
Mr. Tufthunt understood the hint, and bit his lips
and walked on. And as for that worthy moralist, Mr.
Brandon, I am happy to say that there was some good
fortune in store for him, which, though similar in kind
to that bestowed lately upon Mr. Fitch, was superior in
degree.
It was no other than this, that forgetting all maidenly decency and decorum, before Lord Viscount Cinqbars
and his friend, that silly little creature, Caroline Gann,
rushed out from the parlour into the passage-she had
been at the window ever since she was rid of her fainting fit! and, ah! what agonies of fear had that little
panting heart endured during the half-hour of her lover's
absence! —Caroline Gann, I say, rushed into the passage,
and leaped upon the neck of Brandon, and kissed him,
and called him her deal, dear, dear, darling George, and
sobbed, and laughed, until George, taking her round the
waist gently, carried her into the little dingy parlour,
and closed the door behind him.
"Egad," cried Cinqbars, "this is quite a thene!
Hullo, Becky, Polly, what's your name?-bring uth up
the breakfatht; and I hope you've remembered the thodawater.  Come along up thtairth, Tufty, my boy."
When Brandon came up stairs and joined them,




148         A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
which he did in a minute or two, consigning Caroline
to Becky's care, his eyes were full of tears; and when
Cinqbars began to rally him in his usual delicate way,
Brandon said, gravely, " No laughing, sir, if you please;
for I swear that that lady before long shall be my wife."
"Your wife!-and what will your father say, and
what will your duns say, and what will Miss Goldmnore
say, with her hundred thousand pounds?" cried Cinqbars.
"Miss Goldmore be hanged," said Brandon, "' and
the duns too; and my father may reconcile it to himself
as he can." And here Brandon fell into a revery.
"It's no use thinking," he cried, after a pause.
"You see what a girl it is, Cinqbars. I love her-by
Heavens, I'm mad with love for her! She shall be
mine, let what will come of it. And besides," he added,.in a lower tone of voice, "why need, why need my father
know any thing about it?"
"0  flames and furies, what a lover it is!" exclaimed
his friend.  "But, by Jove, I like your spirit; and hang
all governors say I.  Stop-a bright thought!  If you
must marry, why, herle's Tom Tufthunt, the very man
to do your business." Little Lord Cinqbars was delighted
with the excitement of the affair, and thought to himself,
"By Jove, this is an intrigue!"
"What, is Tufthunt in orders?" said Brandon.
"Yes," replied that reverend gentleman: "don't
you see my coat? I took orders six weeks aoo, on my
fellowship.  Cinqbars' governor has promised me a
living."
" And you shall marry George here, so you shall."
"What. without a license?"




A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.          149
"Hang the license i-we won't peach, will we,
George?"
"Her family must know nothing of it," said George,
o r they would."
" Why should they?  Why shouldn't Tom marry
you in this very room, without any church or stuff at
all l"
Tom said: "You'll hold me out, my lord, if any
thing comes of it; and, if Brandon likes, why, I will.
He's done for if he does," muttered Tufthunt, " and I
have had my revenge on him, the bullying, supercilious
blackleg!"
e      a-       e      e       e      *
And so on that very day, in Brandon's room, without a license, and by that worthy clergyman the Rev.
Thomas Tufthunt, with my Lord Cinqbars for the sole
witness, poor Caroline Gann, who knew no better, who
never heard of licenses, and did not know what bans
meant, was married in a manner to the person calling
himself George Brandon; Georle Brandon not being
his real name.
No writings at all were made, and the ceremony
merely read through. Becky, Caroline's sole guardian,
when the poor girl kissed her, and, blushing, showed her
gold ring, thought all was in order: and the happy
couple set off for Dover that day, with fifty pounds
which Cinqbars lent the bridegroom.
Becky received a little letter from Caroline, which
she promised to carry to her mamma at Swigby's: and
it was agreed that she was to give warning, and come
and live with her young lady. Next morning Lord
Cinqbars and Tufthunt took the boat for London; the




150          A SHABBY GENTEEL STORY.
latter uneasy in mind, the former vowing that "he'd
never spent such an exciting day in his life, and loved
an intrigue of all things."
Next morning, too, the great travelling chariot of
Mrs. Carrickfergus rolled away with a bearded gentleman inside.  Poor Fitch had been back to his lodgings
to try one more chance with Caroiine, and he arrived
in time-to see her get into a post-chaise alone with
Brandon.
Six weeks afterwards Galignani's Messenger contained the following announcement:"Married, at the British embassy, by Bishop Luscombe,
Andrew Fitch, Esq., to Marianne Caroline Matilda; widow of
the late Antony Carrickfergus, of Lombard Street and Gloucester Place, Esquire. The happy pair, after a magnificent dijene',
set off for the south in their splendid carriage-and-four. Miss
Runt officiated as bride's-maid. And we remarked among the
company Earl and Countess Crabs, General Sir Rice Curry,
K.C.B., Colonel Wapshot, Sir Charles Swang, the Hon. Algernon
Percy Deuceace and his lady, Count Punter, and others of the
elite of the fashionables now in Paris. The bridegroom was
attended by his friend, Michael Angelo Titmarsh, Esquire; and
the lady was given away by the Right Hon. the Earl of Crabs.
On the departure of the bride and bridegroom the festivities
were resumed, and many a sparkling bumper of Meurice's champagne was quaffed to the health of the hospitable and interesting couple."
And with one more marriage this chapter shall conclude. About this time the British Auxiliary Legion
came home from Spain; and Lieut.-General Swabber,
a knight of San Fernando, of the order of Isabella the
Catholic, of the Tower and Sword, &c., who, as plain
Lieutenant Swabber, had loved Miss Isabella Macarty,




A SHABBY CEN''LEEL STORY.        151
as a general now actually married her. I leave you to
suppose how glorious Mrs. Gann was, and how Gann
got tipsy at the Bag of Nails; but as her daughters
each insisted upon their 301. a-year income, and Mrs.
Gann had so only 601. left, she was obliged still to contirnue the lodging-house at Margate, in which have
occurred the most interesting passages of this SHABBY
GENTEEL STORY.
Becky never went to her young mistress, who was
not heard of after she wrote the letter to her parents,
saying that she was married to Mr. Brandon; but, for
particular reasons, her dear husband wished to keep
his marriage secret, and for the present her beloved
parents must be content to know she was happy. Gann
missed his little Carry at first a good deal, but spent
more and more of his time at the alehouse, as his house
with only Mrs. Gann in it was too hot for him. Mrs.
Gann talked unceasingly of her daughter the squire's
lady, and her daughter the general's wife; but never
once mentioned Caroline after the first burst of wonder
and wrath at her departure.
God bless thee, poor Caroline!  Thou art happy
now, for some short space at least; and here, therefore,
let us leave thee.








THE PROFESSOR.
A TALE OF SENTIMENT.
" Why, then, the World's mine oyster."
CHAPTER I.
I HAVE often remarked that, among other ornaments
and curiosities, Hackney contains more ladies' schools
than are to be found in almost any other village, or indeed city, in Europe. In every green rustic lane, to
every tall old-fashioned house there is an iron gate, an
ensign of blue and gold, and a large brass plate, proclaiming that a ladies' seminary is established upon the
premises.  On one of these plates is written-(or rather
was,-for the pathetic occurrence which I have to
relate took place many years ago) —on one of these
plates, I say, was engraven the following inscription:"BULGARIA HOUSE.
SEMINARY FOR YOUNG LADIES FROM THREE TO TWENTY.
BY THE MISSES PIDGE.
(Pleass wipe your shoes.)"
7*




154              THE PROFESSOR.
The Misses Pidge took a limited number of young
ladies, (as limited, in fact, or as large as the public
chose,) and instructed them in those branches of elegant and useful learning which make the British female
so superior to all other shes.  The younger ones
learned the principles of back-stitch, cross-stitch, bobstitch, Doctor Watts's Hymns, and "In my Cottage
near a Wood."  The elder pupils diverged at once
fiom stitching and samplers: they played like Thalberg, and pirouetted like Taglioni; they learned geography, geology, mythology, entomology, modern history, and simple equations (Miss Z. Pidge); they obtained a complete knowledge of the French, German,
and Italian tongues, not including English, taught by
Miss Pidge; Poonah painting and tambour (Miss E.
Pidge); Brice's questions and elocution (Miss F. Pidge);
and, to crown all, dancing and gymnastics (which had
a very flourishing look in the Pidge prospectus, and
were printed in German text,) DANCING and GYMNASTIcs, we say, by Professor DANDOLO.  The names of
other professors and assistants followed in modester type.
Although the signor's name was decidedly foreign,
so English was his appearance, and so entirely did he
disguise his accent, that it was impossible to tell of
what place he was a native, if not of London, and of
the very heart of it; for he had caught completely the
peculiarities which distinguish the so-called cockney
part of the City, and obliterated his h's and doubled his
v's, as if he had been for all his life in the neighbourhood of Bow bells. Signor Dandolo was a stout
gentleman of five feet nine, with amazing expanse of
mouth, chest, and whiskers, which latter were of a red
hue.




THE PIROFESSOR.              155
I cannot tell how this individual first received an
introduction to the academy of the Misses Pidge, and
established himself there. Rumours say that Miss Zela
Pidge at a Hackney ball first met him, and thus the
intimacy arose: but, since the circumstances took place
which I am about to relate, that young lady declares
that she was not the person who brought him to Bulgaria Hlouse,-nothing but the infatuation and entreaties of Mrs. Alderman Grampus could ever have induced
her to receive him.  The reader will gather from  this,
that Dandolo's after-conduct at Miss Pidge's was not
satisfactory,-nor was it; and may every mistress of
such an establishment remember that confidence can
be sometimes misplaced; that friendship is frequently
but another name for villany.
But to our story. The stalwart and active Dandolo
delighted for some time the young ladies at Miss Pidge's
by the agility which he displayed in the dance, as well
as the strength and manliness of his form, as exhibited
in the new amusement which he taught.  In a very
short time, Miss Binx, a stout young lady of seventeen,
who had never until his appearance walked half a mile
without puffing like an apoplectic Lord Mayor, could
dance the cachuca, swarm up a pole with the agility of
a cat, and hold out a chair for three minutes without
winking. Miss Jacobs could very nearly climb through
a ladder (Jacob's ladder, he profanely called it); and
Miss Bole ring such changes upon the dumb-bells as
might have been heard at Edmonton, if the bells could
have spoken. But the most promising pupil of Professor Dandolo, as indeed the fairest young creature in
the establishment of Bulgaria House, was Miss Adeliza




156               THE PROFESSOR.
Grampus, daughter of the alderman whose name we
have mentioned. The pride of her mother, the idol of
her opulent father, Adeliza Grampus was in her nineteenth year. Eyes have often been described; but it
would require bluer ink than ours to depict the orbs of
Adeliza. The snow when it first falls in Cheapside is
not whiter than her neck,-when it has been for some
days upon the ground, trampled by dustmen and jarvies, trodden down by sweeps and gentlemen going to
business, not blacker than her hair. Slim as the Monument on Fish-street-hill, her form was slender and
tall; but it is needless to recapitulate her charms, and
difficult indeed to describe them. Let the reader think
of his first love, and fancy Adeliza.  Dandolo, who was
employed to instruct her, saw her, and fancied her too,
as many a fellow of his inflammable temperament
would have done in his place.
There are few situations in life which can be so
improved by an enterprising man as that of a dancingmaster,-I mean in a tender or amatory point of view.
The dancing-master has over the back, the hands, the
feet and shoulders of his pupils an absolute command;
and, being by nature endowed with so much authority,
can speedily spread his way from the limbs to the rest
of the body, and to the mind inclusive.  " Toes a little
more out, Miss Adeliza," cries he, with the tenderest
air in the world: " back a little more straight," and he
gently seizes her hand, he raises it considerably above
the level of her ear, he places the tips of his left-hand
fingers gently upon the young lady's spine, and in this
seducing attitude gazes tenderly into her eyes! I say
that no woman at any age can stand this attitude and




'THE PROFESSOR.              157
this look, especially when darted from such eyes as
those of Dandolo. On the two first occasions when the
adventurer attempted this audacious manoeuvre, his
victim blushed only, and trembled; on the third, she
dropped her full eyelids, and turned ghastly pale.  "A
glass of water," cried Adeliza, " or I faint."  The dancing-master hastened eagerly away to procure the desired beverage, and, as he put it to her lips, whispered
thrillingly in her ear, "Thine, thine for ever, Adeliza!"
Miss Grampus sank back in the arms of Miss Binx,
but not before her raptured lover saw her eyes turning
towards the ceiling, and her clammy lips"whispering the
name of "Dandolo."
When Madame Schroeder, in the opera of Fidelio,
cries, "Nichts, nichts, mein Florestan," it is as nothing
compared to the tenderness with which Miss Grampus
uttered that soft name.
"Dandolo!" would she repeat to her confidante,
Miss Binx; "the name was beautiful and glorious in
the olden days; five hundred -years since, a myriad of
voices shouted it in Venice, when one who bore it came
forward to wed the sea-the doge's bride! the blue
Adriatic! the boundless and eternal main! The fiightened Turk shrunk palsied at the sound: it was louder
than the loudest of the cannon, or the stormy screaming of the tempest! Dandolo! How  many brave
hearts beat to hear that name! how many bright
swords flashed forth at that resistless war cry! Oh,
Binx!" would Adeliza continue, fondly pressing the
arm of that young lady, " is it not passing strange that
one of that mighty ducal race should have lived to this




THE PROFESSOR.
day, and lived to love me?  But I too," Adeliza would
add, archly, " am, as you know, a daughter of the
sea."
The fact was, that the father of Miss Adeliza Grampus was a shell-fishmonger, which induced the young
lady to describe herself as a daughter of Ocean. She
received her romantic name from  her mother, after
reading Miss Swipes's celebrated novel of Toby of Warsaw; and had been fed from her youth upwards with
so much similar literary ware, that her little mind had
gone distracted. Her father had sent her from home
at fifteen, because she had fallen in love with the
young man who opened natives in the shop, and had
vowed to slay herself with the oyster-knife. At Miss
Pidge's her sentiment had not deserted her; she knew
all Miss Landon by heart, had a lock of Mr. Thomas
Moore's hair or wig, and read more novels and poetry
than ever. And thus the red-haired dancing-master
became in her eyes a Venetian nobleman, with whom
it was her pride and pleasure to fall in love.
Being a parlour-boarder at Miss Pidge's seminary,
(a privilege which was acquired by paying five annual
guineas extra,) Miss Grampus was permitted certain
liberties which were not accorded to scholars of the ordinary description. She and Miss Binx occasionally
strolled into the village by themselves; they visited the
library unattended; they went upon little messages for
the Misses Pidge; they walked to church alone, either
before or after the long row of young virgins who
streamed out on every sabbath day from between the
filigree iron railings of Bulgaria House. It is my painful duty to state, that on several of these exclusive walks




THE PRO'ESSOR.               169
they were followed, or met, by the insidious and attentive teacher of gymnastics.
Soon Miss Binx would lag behind, and-shall I own
it?-would make up for the lost society of her female
friend by the company of a man, a friend of the professor, mysterious and agreeable as himself. May the mistresses of all the establishments for young ladies in this
kingdom, or queendom rather, peruse this, and reflect
how dangerous it is for young ladies of any age, —ay,
even for pariour boarders,-to go out alone! In the
present instance, Miss Grampus enjoyed a more than
ordinary liberty, it is true: when the elder Miss Pidge
would remonstrate, Miss Zela would anxiously yield to
her request; and why — the reason may be gathered
from the following conversation which passed between
the infatuated girl and the wily mactre-de-danse.' "How, Roderick," would Adeliza say, "how, in the
days of our first acquaintance, did it chance that you
always addressed yourself to that odious Zela Pidge,
and never deigned to breathe a syllable to me?"
"My lips didn't speak to you, Addly," (for to such
a pitch of familiarity had they arrived,) "but my heyes
did."
Adeliza was not astonished by the peculiarity of his
pronunciation, for, to say truth, it was that commonly
adopted in her native home and circle. " And mine,"
said she, tenderly, "they followed when yours were not
fixed upon them, for then I dared not look upwards.
And though all on account of Miss Pidge you could not
hear the accents of my voice, you might have heard the
beatings of my heart!"
"I did, I did," gasped Roderick; "I eard them




1.60             THE PROFESSOR.
haudibly. I never spoke to you then, for I feared to
waken that foul friend sispicion. I wished to henter
your seminary, to be continually near you, to make you
love me; therefore I wooed the easy and folish Miss
Pidge, therefore I took upon me the disguise of —ha!
ha! —of a dancing master."  (And the young man's
countenance assumed a grim and demoniac smile.)
"Yes; I degraded my name and my birthright,-I
wore these ignoble trappings, and all for the love of
thee, my Adeliza 1" Here Signor Dandolo would have
knelt down, but the road was muddy; and, his trousers
being of nankeen, his gallant purpose was frustrated.
But the story must out, for the conversation above
narrated has betrayed to the intelligent reader a considerable part of it. The fact is, as we have said, that
Miss Zela Pidge, dancing at the Hackney assembly, was
introduced to this man; that he had no profession,-no
means even of subsistence; that he saw enough of this
lady to be aware that he could make her useful to his
purpose; and he who had been, we believe it in our
conscience, no better than a travelling mountebank or
harlequin, appeared at Bulgaria House in the character
of a professor of gymnastics. The governess, in the first
instance, entertained for him just such a penchant as the
pupil afterwards felt: the latter discovered the weakness
of her mistress, and hence arose Miss Pidge's indulgence,
a-d Miss Grampus's fatal passion.
"Mysterious being!" continued Adeliza, resuming
the conversation which has been broken by the above
explanatory hints, " how did I learn to love thee? Who
art thou? —what dire fate has brought thee hither in
this lowly guise to win the heart of Adeliza."




THE PROFESSOR.               161
"H adeliza," cried he," you say well; I am not what
I seem. I cannot tell thee what I am; a tale of horror,
of crime, forbids the dreadful confession! But- dark as I
am, and wretched, nay, wicked and desperate, I love
thee, Hadeliza, —love thee with the rapturous devotion
of purer days —the tenderness of happier times! I am
sad now, and fallen, lady; suffice it that I once was
happy, ay, respectable."
Adeliza's cheek grew deadly pale, her step faltered,
and she would have fallen to the ground, had she not
been restrained by the strong arm of her lover. "I
know  not," said she, as she clung timidly to his
neck,"I know not, I hask not, if guilt's in that art,
I know that I love thee, whatever thou hart.' Gilt in my heart," said Dandolo, " gilt in the heart
of Roderick? No, never!" and he drew her towards
him, and on her bonnet, her veil, her gloves, nay, on
her very cheeks, he imprinted a thousand maddening
kisses.  "But say, my sweet one," continued he, "who
art thou? I know you as yet, only by your lovely
baptismal name, and your other name of Grampus."
Adeliza looked down and blushed.  " My parents
are lowly," she said.
"But how then came you at such a seminary 8'
said he; "twenty pounds a quarter, extras and washing not included."
"They are humble, but wealthy."
" Ha! who is your father 2"
"An alderman of yon metropolis."
" An alderman! and what is his profession?"




162              T'rs PROFESSOR.
" I blush to tell: he is —an oystermonger."
"AN OYSTERMONGER!" screamed Roderick, in
the largest capitals. " Ha, ha, ha! this is too much!"
and he dropped Adeliza's hand, and never spoke to her
dIuring the rest of her walk. They moved moodily on for
some time, Miss Binx and the other young man marching astonished in the rear. At length they came within
sight of the seminary.  "Here is Bulgaria House,"
cried the maiden, steadily: " Roderick, we must part!"
The effort was too much for her; she flung herself hysterically into his arms.
But, oh, horror! a scream was heard' from Miss
Binx, who was seen scuttling at double-quick time towards the school-house. Her young man had bolted
completely; and close at the side of the lovely, though
imprudent couple, stood tbhe angry-and justly angryMiss Zela Pidge!
" Oh, Ferdinand," said she, "is it thus you deceive
me? Did I bring you to Bulgaria House for this?did I give you money to buy clothes for this, that you
should go by false names, and make love to that saucy,
slammerkin, sentimental Miss Grampus? Ferdinand,
Ferdinand," cried she, " is this true? can I credit my
eyes?"
" D     your eyes i" said the signor, angrily, as he
darted at her a withering look, and retired down the
street. His curses might be heard long after he had
passed.  He never appeared more at Bulgaria House,
for he received his dismissal the next day.
That night all the front windows of the Miss Pidge's
seminary were smashed to shivers.
*       *:*                    *       *




THE PROFESSOR.                163
On the following Thursday, two places were taken
in the coach to town. On the back seat sate the
usher; on the front, the wasted and miserable Adeliza
Grampus.
CHAPTER II.
BUT the matter did not end here.  Miss Grampus's departure elicited firom her a disclosure of several circumstances which, we must say, in no degree increased the
reputation of Miss Zela Pidge.  The discoveries which
she made were so awkward, the tale of crime and licentiousness revealed by her so deeply injurious to the
character of the establishment, that the pupils emigrated from it in scores. Miss Binx retired to her friends at
Wandsworth, Miss Jacobs to her relations in Hounditch,
and other young ladies, not mentioned in this history,
to other and more moral schools; so that absolutely, at
the end of a single half year, such had been the scandal of the story, the Misses Pidge were left with only
two pupils, —Miss Dibble, the articled young lady, and
Miss Bole, the grocer's daughter, whl-o came in exchange
for tea, candles, and other requisites supplied to the
establishment by her father.
" I knew it! I knew it!" cried Zela passionately, as
she trod the echoing and melancholy school-room; " he
told me that none ever prospered who loved him,-that
every flower was blighted upon which he shone! Ferdinand, Ferdinand, you have caused ruin there!" (pointing to the empty cupboards and folrms)  "b ut what is




164              T'Hm' PROF'SSOR.
that to the blacker ruin here?" and the poor creature
slapped her heart, and the big tears rolled down her
chin, and so into her tucker.
A very, very few weeks after this the plate on Bulgaria House was removed for ever. That mansion is
now designated "Moscow Hall, by Mr. Swishtail and
assistants:"-the bankrupt and fugitive Misses Pidge
have fled, Heaven knows whither! for the steamers
to Boulogne cost more than five shillings in th ose days.
Alderman Grampus, as may be imagined, did not
receive his daughter with any extraordinary degree of
courtesy.  "He was as grumpy," Mrs. G. remarked,
"on the occasion as a sow with the measles."  But
had he not reason? A lovely daughter who had neglected her education, forgotten her morals for the
second time, and fallen almost a prey to villains! Miss
Grampus for some months was kept in close confinement, nor ever suffered to stir, except occasionally to
Bunhill-row for air, and to church for devotion. Still,
though she knew him to be false, —though she knew
that under a different, perhaps a prettier name, he had
offered the same vows to another, —she could not but
think of Roderick.
That Professor (as well-too well-he may be
called!) knew too well her father's name and reputation to experience any difficulty in finding his abode.
It was, as every city man knows, in Cheapside; and
thither Dandolo constantly bent his steps: but though
he marched unceasingly about the mansion, he never
(mysteriously) would pass it. He watched Adeliza
walking, he followed her to church; and many and many
a time, as she jostled out at the gate of the Artilleryground, or the beadle-flanked portal of Bow, a tender




THE PROFESSOR.                 165
hand would meet hers, an active foot would press
upon hers, a billet discreetly delivered was as adroitly
seized, to hide in the recesses of her pocket-handkerchief, or to nestle in the fragrance of her bosom!
Love! Love! how  ingenious thou  art! thou canst
make a ladder of a silken thread, or a weapon of a
straw; thou peerest like sunlight into a dungeon; thou
scalest, like forlorn hope, a castle wall; the keep is
taken!-the foeman has fled! —the banner of love
floats triumphantly over the corpses of the slain!*
Thus, though denied the comfort of personal intercourse, Adeliza and her lover maintained a frequent and
tender correspondence.  Nine times at least in a week,
she by bribing her maid-servant, managed to convey
letters to the Professor, to which he at rarer intervals,
though with equal warmth, replied.
"Why," said the young lady in the course of this
correspondence, "why,- when I cast my eyes upon Roderick, do I see him  so wofully changed in outward
guise?  He wears not the dress whichb formerly adorned
him. Is he poor?-is he in disguise?-do debts oppress
him, or traitors track him for his blood? Oh that my
arms might shield him! —Oh that my purse might aid
him! It is the fondest wish of       "ADELIZA G.
" P. S.-Aware of your fondness for shell-fish, Susan
will leave a barrel of oysters at the Swan with Two
Necks, directed to you, as per desire.     "AD. G.
"P. S.-Are you partial to kippered salmon?  The
girl brings three pounds of it wrapped in a silken handkerchief.'Tis marked with the hair of  "ADELIZA.
* We cannot explain this last passage; but it is so beautiful
that the reader will pardon the omission of sense, which the author certainly could have put in if he liked.




166              THE PROFESSOR,.
"P. S.-I break open my note to say that you will
find in it a small pot of anchovy paste: may it prove
acceptable. Heigho! I would that I could accompany
it.                                     " A. G."
It may be imagined, from the text of this note, that
Adeliza had profited not a little by the perusal of Mrs.
Swipe's novels; and it also gives a pretty clear notion
of the condition of her lover. When that gentleman
was a professor at Bulgaria House, his costume had
strictly accorded with his pretensions. He wore a black
German coat loaded with frogs and silk trimming, a
white broad brimmed beaver, hessians, and nankeen
tights. His costume at present was singularly changed
for the worse: a rough brown frock-coat dangled down
to the calves of his brawny legs, where likewise ended a
pair of greasy shepherd's-plaid trousers; a dubious red
waistcoat, a blue or bird's-eye neckerechief, and bluchers,
(or half-boots,) remarkable for thickness and for mud,
completed his attire. But he looked superior to his
fortune; he wore his grey hat very much on one ear;
he incessantly tugged at his smoky shirt-collar, and
walked jingling the half-pence (when he had any) in
his pocket. He was, in fact, no better than an adventurer, and the innocent Adeliza was his prey.
Though the Professor read the first part of this letter
with hope and pleasure, it may be supposed that the
three postscripts were still more welcome to him, —in
fact, he literally did what is often done in novels, he
devoured them; and Adeliza, on receiving a note from
him the next day, after she had eagerly broken the seal,
and witll panting bosom  and flashing eye glanced over




'IIE PROFESSOR.              16'7
the contents,-Adeliza, we say, was not altogether pleased when she read the following:
"Your goodness, dearest, passes belief; but never
did poor fellow need it more than your miserable, faithful Roderick.  Yes! I am poor, —I am tracked by hellhounds,-I amn changed in looks, and dress, and happiness, —in all but love for thee!
"Hear my tale! I come of a noble Italian family,
-the noblest, ay, in Venice. We were free once, and
rich, and happy; but the Prussian autograph has planted his banner on our towers,-the talents of his haughty
beagle have seized our wealth, and consigned most of
our race to dungeons. I arn not a prisoner, only an
exile. A mother, a bed-ridden grandmother, and five
darling sisters, escaped with me from Venice, and now
share my poverty and my home. But I have wrestled
with misfortune in vain; I have struggled with want,
till want has overcome me. Adeliza, I WANT BREAD!
"The kippered salmon was very good, the anchovies admirable.  But, oh, my love! how  thlrstv they
make those who have no means of slaking thirst! My
poor grandmother lies delirious in her bed, and cries in
vain for drink. Alas! our water is cut off; I have
none to give her. The oysters was capital. Bless thee,
bless thee! angel of bounty! Have you any more sich,
and a few srimps? My sisters are very fond of them.
"Half-a-crown would oblige.  But thou art too good
to me already, and I blush to ask thee for more. Adieu,
Adeliza,
"the wretched but faithful
"RODERICK FERDINAND,
" (38th Count of Dandolo.)
"Bell-vard, Jlne —."




168               THE PROFESSOR.
A shade of dissatisfaction, we say, clouded Adeliza's
fair features as she perused this note; and yet there
was nothing in it which the tenderest lover might not
write. But the shrimps, the half-crown, the horrid picture of squalid poverty presented by the count, sickened
her young heart; the innate delicacy of the woman
revolted at the thought of all this misery.
But better thoughts succeeded: her breast heaved
as she read and re-read the singular passage concerning
the Prussian autograph, who had planted his standard
at Venice.  "I knew it!" she cried, "I knew it! —he
is of noble race! 0 Roderick, I will perish, but I will.
help thee!"
Alas! she was not well enough acquainted with
history to perceive that the Prussian autograph had
nothing to do with Venice, and had forgotten altogether that she herself had coined the story which this
adventurer returned to her.
But a difficulty presented itself to Adeliza's mind.
Her lover asked for money,-where was she to find it?
The next day the till of the shop was empty, and a
weeping apprentice dragged before the Lord Mayor. It
is true that no signs of the money were found upon
him; it is true that he protested his innocence; but he
was dismissed the alderman's service, and passed a
month at Bridewell, because Adeliza Grampus had a
needy lover!
"Dearest," she wrote, "will three-and-twenty and
sevenpence suffice?'Tis all I have: take it, and with
it the fondest wishes of your Adeliza."
" A sudden thought! Our apprentice is dismissed.
My father dines abroad; I shall be in the retail establishment all the night, alone.           "A. G."




'IHE PROFESSOR.              169
No sooner had the Professor received this note than
his mind was made up.  "I will see her," he said; "I
will enter that accursed shop." He did, and to his
ruin.      *       *       *       *        *
That night Mrs. Grampus and her daughter took
possession of the bar or counter, in the place which
Adeliza called the retail establishment, and which is
commonly denominated the shop. Mrs. Grampus herself operated with the oyster-knife, and served the Milton morsels to the customers. Age had not diminished
her skill, nor had wealth rendered her too proud to
resume at need a profession which she had followed in
early days. Adeliza flew gracefully to and fro with the
rolls, the vinegar bottle with perforated cork, and the
little pats of butter. A little boy ran backwards and
forwards to the Blue Lion over the way, for the pots of
porter, or for the brandy and water, which some gentlemen take after the playv.
Midnight' arrived. Miss Grampus was looking
through the window, and contrasting the gleaming gas
which shone upon the ruby lobsters, with the calm
moon which lighted up the Poultry, and threw a halo
round the Royal Exchange.  She was lost in maiden
meditation, when her eye fell upon a pane of glass in
her own window: squeezed against this. flat and white,
was the nose of a man!-that man was Roderick Dandolo   He seemed to be gazing at the lobsters more
intensely than at Adeliza; he had his hands in his
pockets, and was whistling Jim Crow.*
* I know this is an anachronism; but I only mean that he
was performing.one of the popular melodies of the time.
M. A. T.
8




170               THE PROFESSOR.
Miss Grampus felt sick with joy; she staggered to
the counter, and almost fainted. The Professor concluded his melody, and entered at once into the shop.
He pretended to have no knowledge of Miss Grampus,
but aborded the two ladies with easy elegance and irresistible good-humour.
" Good evening, ma'am," said he, bowing profoundly to the elder lady.  "What a precious hot evening,
to be sure! —hot, ma'am, and hungry, as they say. I
could not resist them lobsters,'specially when I saw the
lady behind'em."
At this gallant speech Mrs. Grampus blushed, or
looked as if she would blush, and said,
"Law, sir!"
"Law, indeed, ma'am," playfully continued the
Professor; "you're a precious deal better than law,you're divinity, ma'am; and this, I presume, is your
sister?"
He pointed to Adeliza as he spoke, who, pale and
mute, stood fainting against a heap of ginger-beer bottles. The old lady was quite won by this stale compliment.
"My daughter, sir," she said.  "Addly, lay a cloth
for the gentleman. Do you take hoysters, sir, hor lobsters? Both is very fine."
"Why, ma'am," said he, "to say truth, I have
come forty miles since dinner, and don't care if I have
a little of both. I will begin, if you please, with that
there (Lord bless its claws, they're as red as your lips!),
and we'll astonish a few of the natives afterwards, by
your leave."
AMrs: Grampus was delighted with the manners and




THE PROFESSOR.                171
the appetite of the stranger. She proceeded forthwith
to bisect the lobster, while the Professor in a ddgagg
manner, his cane over his shoulder, and a cheerful
whistle upon his lips, entered the little parlour, and
took possession of a box and a table.
He was no sooner seated than, from  a scuffle, a
giggle, and a smack, Mrs. Grampus was induced to
suspect that something went wrong in the oyster-roomn.
" Hadeliza!" cried she; and that young woman
returned blushing now like a rose, who had been as
pale before as a lily.
Mrs. G. herself took in the lobster, bidding her
daughter sternly to stay in the shop. She approached
the stranger with an angry air, and laid the lobster before him.
"For shame, sir!" said she solemnly; but all of a
sudden she began to giggle like her daughter, and her
speech ended with an " Have done now I"
We were not behind the curtain, and cannot of
course say what took place; but it is evident that the
Professor was a general lover of the sex.
Mrs. Grampus returned to the shop, rubbing her
lips with her fat arms, and restored to perfect goodhumour.  The little errand-boy was despatched over
the way for a bottle of Guinness and a glass of brandy
and water.'" HoT WITH!" shouted a manly voice fiom the eating-room, and Adeliza was pained to think that in her
presence her lover could eat so well.
He ate indeed as if he had never eaten before: here
is the bill as written by Mrs. Grampus herself.




172                THE PROFESSOR.
"Two lobsters at 3s. 6d...   7s. Od.
Sallit..            1  3
2 Bottils Doubling Stott..   2  4
11 Doz. Best natifs..          4
14 Pads of Botter..   1  2
4 Glasses B. & W,..      4  0
Bredd (love & i).              1  2
Brakitch of tumler..      1  6
"To Samuel Grampus,           1  5  9
"At the Mermaid in Cheapside.
" Shell-fish in all varieties. N. B. —-A great saving in taking
a quantity."
"A saving in taking a quantity," said the stranger
archly.  "Why, ma'm  you ought to let me off very
cheap;" and the Professor, the pot-boy, Adeliza, and
her mamma, grinned equally at this pleasantry.
" However, never mind the pay, missis," continued
he; "we an't agoing to quarrel about that.  Hadd
another glass of brandy and water to the bill, and
bring it me, when it shall be as I am now."
"Law, sir," simpered Mrs. Grampus, "how's that?"
"Peseated, ma'am, to be sure," replied he, as he
sank back upon the table. The old lady went laughing
away, pleased with her merry and facetious customer;
the little boy picked up the oyster-shells, of which a
mighty pyramid was formed at the Professor's feet.
"Here, Sammy," cried out shrill Mrs. Grampus from
the shop, "go over to the Blue Lion and get the gentleman his glass: but no, you are better where you are,
pickin' up them  shells.  Go you, Hadeliza; it is but
across the way."
Adeliza went with a very bad grace; she had hoped




THE PROFESSOR.              173
to exchange at least a few words with him  her soul
adored; and her mother's jealousy plrevented the completion of her wish.
She had scarcely gone, when Mr. Grampus entered
firom his dinner-party.  But, though fond of pleasure,
he was equally faithful to business: without a word, he
hung up his brass-buttoned coat, put on his hairy cap,
and stuck his sleeves through his apron.
As Mrs. Grampus was tying it, (an office which this
faithful lady regularly performed,) he asked her what
business had occurred during his absence.
"Not so bad," said she; "two pound ten to-night,
besides one pound eight to receive;" and she handed
Mr. Grampus the bill.
"How many are there on'em?" said that gentleman smiling, as his eye gladly glanced over the items
of the account.
"'Why, that's the best "of all: how many do you
think."
" If four did it," said Mr. Grampus, " they wouldn't
have done badly neither."
" What do you think of onle?" cried Mrs. G. laughing, "and he an't done yet.  Haddy is gone to fetch
him another glass of brandy and water."
Mr. Grampus looked very much alarmed.  "Only
one, and you say he an't paid?"
"No," said the lady.
Mr. Grampus seized the bill, and rushed wildly into
the dining-room: the little boy was picking up the
oyster-shells still, there were so many of them; the
Professor was seated on the table, laughing as if drunk,
and picking his teeth with his fork.




174               THE PROFESSOR.
Grampus, shaking in every joint, held out the bill:
a horrid thought crossed him; he had seen that face
before!
The Professor kicked sneeringly into the air the idle
piece of paper, and swung his legs recklessly to and
fro.
"What a flat you are," shouted he, in a voice of
thunder, "to think I'm a goin' to pay!  Pay! I never
pay-I'M  DANDO!"
The people in the other boxes crowded forward to
see the celebrated stranger; the little boy grinned as
he dropped two hundred and forty-four oyster-shells,
and Mr. Grampus rushed madly into his front shop,
shrieking for a watchman.
As he ran, he stumbled over something on the
floor,-a woman and a glass of brandy and water lay
there extended. Like Tarquinia reversed, Elijah Grampus was trampling over the lifeless body of Adeliza.
Why enlarge upon the miserable theme? The confiding girl, in returning with the grog from the Blue
Lion, had arrived at the shop only in time to hear the
fatal name of DANDO. She saw him, tipsy and triumphant, bestriding the festal table, and yelling with
horrid laughter.  The truth flashed upon her-she
fell!
Lost to worldly cares in contemplating the sorrows
of their idolized child, her parents forgot all else beside.
Mrs. G. held the vinegar-cruet to her nostrils; her husband brought the soda-water fountain to play upon her;
it restored her to life, but not to sense. When Adeliza
Grampus rose fiom that trance she was a MANIAC!
But what became of the deceiver?   The gorman



THE BPROKESSOR.               175
dizing ruffian, the lying renegade, the fiend in human
shape, escaped in the midst of this scene of desolation.
He walked unconcerned through the shop, his hat
cocked on one side as before, swaggering as before,
whistling as before; far in the moonlight might you
see his figure; long, long in the night-silence rang his
demoniac melody of Jim Crow.
When Samuel the boy cleaned out the shop in the
morning, and made the inventory of the goods, a silver
fork, a plated ditto, a dish, and a pewter pot were found
to be wanting.  Ingenuity will not be long in guessing
the name of the thief.
Gentles, my tale is told.  If it may have deterred
one soul from vice, my end is fully answered; if it may
have taught to school-mistresses carefulness, to pupils
circumspection, to youth the folly of sickly sentiment,
the pain of bitter deception; to manhood the crime,
the meanness of gluttony, the vice which it occasions,
and the wicked passions it fosters; if these, or any of
these, have been taught by the above tale, Goliah
Gahagan seeks for no other reward.
NoTE.-Please send the proceeds as requested per
letter; the bearer being directed not to give up the
manuscript without.








THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
CHAPTER  I.
OF THE LOVES OF MR. PERKINS AND MISS GORGON, AND
OF THE TWO GREAT FACTIONS IN THE TOWN OF OLDBOROUGH.
"MY dear John," cried Lucy, with a very wise look indeed, " it must and shall be so. As for Doughty-street,
with our means, a house is out of the question. We
must keep three servants, and aunt Biggs says the
taxes -are one-and-twenty pounds a year."
"I have seen a sweet place at Chelsea," remarked
John; "Paradise-row, No. 17,-garden —greenhousefifty pounds a year-omnibus to town within a mile."
" What, that I may be left alone all day, and you
spend a fortune in driving backward and forward in
those horrid breakneck cabs? My darling, I should
die there-die of fright, I know I should. Did you
not say yourself that the road was not as yet lighted,
and that the place swarmed with public-houses and
8*




178       TIE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
dreadful tipsy Irish bricklayers? Would you kill me,
John?"
"My da-arling," said John, with tremendous fondness, clutching Miss Lucy suddenly round the waist,
and rapping the hand of that young person violently
against his waistcoat,-" my-da-arling, don't say
such things, even in joke. If I objected to the chambers, it is only because you, my love, with your birth
and connections, ought to have a house of your own.
The chambers are quite large enough, and certainly
quite good enough for me." And so after some more
sweet parley on the part of these young people, it was
agreed that they should take up their abode, when
married, in a part of the house, number one hundred
and something, Bedford-row.
It will be necessary to explain to the reader, that
John was no other than John Perkins, Esq., of the
Middle Temple, barrister-at-law, and that Miss Lucy
was the daughter of the late Captain Gorgon, and Marianne Biggs, his wife. The captain being of noble
connections, younger son of a baronet, cousin to Lord
X., and related to the Y. family, had angered all his
relatives, by marrying a very silly, pretty young woman,
who kept a ladies' school at Canterbury. She had six
hundred pounds to her fortune, which the captain laid
out in the purchase of a sweet travelling-carriage and
dressing-case for himself; and going abroad with his
lady, spent several years in the principal prisons of Europe, in one of which he died. His wife and daughter
were meantime supported by the contributions of Mrs.
Jemima Biggs, who still kept the ladies' school.
At last a dear old relative-such a one as one reads




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.          179
of in romances — died and left seven thousand pounds
apiece to the two sisters, whereupon the elder gave up
schooling and retired to London; and the younger
managed to live with some comfort and decency at
Brussels, upon two hundred and ten pounds per annum. Mrs. Gorgon never touched a shilling of her
capital, for the very good reason that it was placed
entirely out of her reach; so that when she died, her
daughter found herself in possession of a sum of money
that is not always to be met with in this world.
Her aunt, the baronet's lady, and her aunt, the exschoolmistress, both wrote very pressing invitations to
her, and she resided with each for six months after her
arrival in England. Now, for a second time, she had
come to Mrs. Biggs, Caroline-place, Mecklenburghsquare. It was under the roof of that respectable old
lady, that John Perkins, Esq., being invited to take
tea, wooed and won Miss Gorgon.
Having thus described the circumstances of Miss
Gorgon's life, let us pass for a moment from that young
lady, and lift up the veil of mystery which envelopes
the deeds and character of Perkins.
Perkins, too, was an orphan; and he and his Lucy,
of summer evenings, when Sol descending lingered
fondly yet about the minarets of the Foundling, and
gilded the grassplots of Mecklenburgh-square-Perkins,
I say, and Lucy would often sit together in the summer-house of that pleasure-ground, and muse upon the
strange coincidences of their life. Lucy was motherless and fatherless; so, too, was Perkins. If Perkins
was brotherless and sisterless, was not Lucy likewise an
only child? Perkins was twenty-three-his age and




180       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
Lucy's united, amounted to forty-six; and it was to be
remarked, as a fact still more extraordinary, that while
Lucy's relatives were aunts, John's were uncles; mysterious spirit of love! -let us treat thee with respect and
whisper not too many of thy secrets. The fact is, John
and Lucy were a pair of fools (as every young couple
ought to be who have hearts that are worth a farthing),
and were ready to find coincidences, sympathies, hidden
gushes of feeling, mystic unions of the soul, and what
not, in every single circumstance that occurred from the
rising of the sun to the going down thereof, and in the
intervals. Bedford-row, where Perkins lived, is not
very far from Mecklenburgh-square; and John used to
say, that he felt a comfort that his house and Lucy's
were served by the same muffin-man.
Further comment is needless. A more honest, simple, clever, warm-hearted, soft, whimsical, romantical,
high-spirited young fellow than John Perkins did not
exist. When his father, Dr. Perkins, died, this, his only
son, was placed under the care of John Perkins, Esq.,
of the house of Perkins, Scully, and Perkins, those celebrated attorneys in the trading town of Oldborough,
which the second partner, William Pitt Scully, Esq.,
represented in parliament and in London.
All John's fortune was the house in Bedford-row,
which, at his father's death, was let out into chambers,
and brought in a clear hundred a-year. Under his
uncle's roof at Oldborough, where he lived with thirteen
red-haired male and female cousins, he was only charged
fifty pounds for board, clothes and pocket-money, and
the remainder of his rents was carefully put by for him
until his majority. When he approached that period



THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        181
when he came to belong to two spouting clubs at Oldborough, among the young merchants and lawyers'clerks-to blow the flute nicely, and play a good game
at billiards-to have written one or two smart things in
the Oldborough Sentinel —to be fond of smoking (in
which act he was discovered by his fainting aunt at
three o'clock one morning)-in one word, when John
Perkins arrived at manhood, he discovered that he was
quite unfit to be an attorney, that he detested all the
ways of his uncle's stern, dull, vulgar, regular, red-headed
family, and he vowed that he would go to London and
make his fortune. Thither he went, his aunt and cousins, who were all "serious," vowing that he was a lost
boy, and when his history opens, John had been two
years in the metropolis, inhabiting his own garrets; and
a very nice compact set of apartments, looking into the
back-garden, at this moment falling vacant, the prudent
Lucy Gorgon had visited them, and vowed that she
and her John should there commence housekeeping.
All these explanations are tedious, but necessary;
and furthermore, it must be said, that as John's uncle's
partner was the liberal member for Oldborough, so
Lucy's uncle was its ministerial representative.
This gentleman, the brother of the deceased Captain
Gorgon, lived at the paternal mansion of Gorgon Castle,
and rejoiced in the name and title of Sir John Grinmsby
Gorgon. He, too, like his younger brother, had married a lady beneath his own rank in life: having
espoused the daughter and heiress of Mr. Hicks, the
great brewer at Oldborough, who held numerous mortgages on the Gorgon property, all of which -he yielded
up, together with his daughter Eliza, to the care of the
baronet.




182       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
What Lady Gorgon was in character, this history
will show. In person, if she may be compared to any
vulgar animal, one of her father's heavy, healthy broadflanked, Roman-nosed, white dray-horses, might, to the
poetic mind, appear to resemble her. At twenty she
was a splendid creature, and though not at her full
growth, yet remarkable for strength and sinew: at fortyfive she was as fine a woman as any in his majesty's
dominions. Five feet seven in height, thirteen stone,
her own teeth and hair, she looked as if she were the
mother of a regiment of grenadier-guards. She had
three daughters of her own size, and at length, ten years
after the birth of the last of the young ladies, a son —
one son —George Augustus Frederic Grimsby Gorgon,
the godson of a royal duke, whose steady officer in waiting Sir George had been for many years.
It is needless to say, after entering so largely into a
description of Lady Gorgon, that her husband was a
little, shrivelled, weazel-faced creature, eight inches
shorter than her ladyship.  This is the way of the
world, as every single reader of this book must have
remarked; for frolic love delights to join giants and
pigmies of different sexes in the bonds of matrimony.
When you saw her ladyship, in flame-coloured satin,
and gorgeous toque and feathers, entering the drawingroom, as footmen along the stairs shouted melodiously,
SIR GEORGE AND LADY GORGON, yOU beheld in her
company a small withered old gentleman, with powder
and large royal household buttons, who tripped at her
elbow as a little weak-legged colt does at the side of a
stout mare.
The little General had been present at about a hun



THIE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.       183
dred and twenty pitch-battles on Hounslow Heath and
Wormwood Scrubs, but had never drawn his sword
against an enemy. As might be expected, therefore,
his talk and tenue were outrageously military. He had
the whole army-list by heart —that is, as far as the fieldofficers-all below them he scorned. A bugle at Gorgon Castle always sounded at breakfast and dinner: a
gun announced sunset. He clung to his pigtail for
many years after the army had forsaken that ornament,
and could never be brought to think much of the Peninsular men for giving it up. When he spoke of the
duke, he used to call him' "'My Lord Wellington —I
recollect him as Captain Wesley."  He swore fearfully
in conversation —was most regular at church, and regularly read to his family and domestics the morning and
evening prayer; he bullied his daughters, seemed to
bully his wife, who led him whither she chose; gave
grand entertainments, and never asked a friend by
chance; had splendid liveries, and starved his people;
and was as dull, stingy, pompous, insolent, cringing, illtempered a little creature as ever was known.
With such qualities you may fancy that he was
generally admired in society and by his country. So
he was: and I never knew a man so endowed whose
way through life was not safe-who had fewer pangs of
conscience-more positive enjoyments-more respect
shown to him —more favours granted to him, than such
a one as my friend the General.
Her ladyship was just suited to him, and they did
in reality admire each other hugely. Previously to her
marriage with the baronet, many love-passages had
passed between her and William Pitt Scully, Esq., the




184       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
attorney, and there was especially one story, apropos of
certain syllabubs and Sally-Lunn cakes, which seemed
to show that matters had gone very far. Be this as it
may, no sooner did the General (Major Gorgon he was
then) cast an eye on her, than Scully's five years fabric
of love was instantly dashed to the ground. She cut
him pitilessly, cut Sally Scully, his sister, her dearest
friend and confidante, and bestowed her big person upon
the little aide-de-camp at the end of a fortnight's wooing. In the course of time, their mutual fathers died;
the Gorgon estates were unencumbered: patron of both
the seats in the borough of Oldborough, and occupant
of one, Sir George Grimsby Gorgon, baronet, was a
personage of no small importance.
1e6 was, it scarcely need be said, a Tory; and this
was the reason why William  Pitt Scully, Esq., of the
firm of Perkins and Scully, deserted those principles in
which he had been bred and christened; deserted that
church which he had frequented, for he could not bear
to see Sir John and my lady flaunting in their grand
pew;-deserted, I say, the church, adopted the conventicle, and became one of the most zealous and eloquent
supporters that Freedom  has known in our time.
Scully, of the House of Scully and Perkins, was a dangerous enemy. In five years from that marriage, which
snatched from  the jilted solicitor his heart's young
affections, Sir George Gorgon found that he must actually spend seven hundred pounds to keep his two
seats. At the next election, a liberal was set up against
his man, and actually run him  hard; and finally, at
the end of eighteen years, the rejected Scully-the
mean attorney-was actually the first member for




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        185
Oldborough, Sir George Grimsby Gorgon, Baronet, being only the second!
The agony of that day cannot be imagined —the
dreadful curses of Sir George, who saw fifteen hundred
a year robbed from under his very nose-the religious
resignation of my lady-the hideous window-smashing
that took place at the Gorgon Arms, and the discomfiture of the pelted mayor and corporation. The very
next Sunday, Scully was reconciled to the church (or
attended it in the morning, and the meeting twice in
the afternoon), and as Doctor Shorter uttered the prayer
for the high court of parliament, his eye-the eye of
his whole party-turned towards Lady Gorgon and Sir
George in a most unholy triumph. Sir George (who
always stood during prayers, like a military man,)
fairly sunk down among the hassocks, and Lady Gorgon
was heard to sob as audibly as ever did little beadlebelaboured urchin.
Scully, when at Oldborough, came from that day
forth to church. "What," said he, "was it to him?
were we not all brethren?" Old Perkins, however,
kept religiously to the Squaretoes' congregation. In
fact, to tell the truth, this subject had been debated between the partners, who saw the advantage of courting
both the establishment and the dissenters —a manceuvre
which, I need not say, is repeated in almost every country town in England, where a solicitor's house has this
kind of power and connexion.
Three months after this election came the races at
Oldborough, and the race-ball.  Gorgon was so infuriated by this defeat, that he gave "the Gorgon cup and
cover," a matter of fifteen pounds. Scully, "although




186      THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
anxious," as he wrote from town, "anxious beyond
measure to preserve the breed of horses for which our
beloved country has ever been famous, could attend no
such sports as these, which but too often degenerated
into vice." It was voted a shabby excuse. Lady Gorgon was radiant in her barouche and four, and gladly
became the patroness of the ball that was to ensue;
and which all the gentry and townspeople, Tory and
Whig, were in the custom of attending, The ball took
place on the last day of the races-on that day, the
walls of the market-house, the principal public buildings, and the Gorgon Arms hotel itself, were plastered
with the followingLETTER  FROM  OUR  DISTINGUISHED REPRESENTATIVE
WILLIAM P. SCULLY, ESQ., ETC., ETC.
House of Conmons, TWednesday, June 9, 18-.
"My dear Heeltap, —You know my opinion about
horse-racing, and though I blame neither you nor any
brother Englishman who enjoys that manly sport, you
will, I am sure, appreciate the conscientious motives
which induce me not to appear among my friends and
constituents on the festival of the 3d, 4th, and 5th instant. If I, however, cannot allow my name to appear
among your list of stewards, one at least of the representatives of Oldborough has no such scruples. Sir
George Gorgon is among you; and though I differ
from that honourable baronet on more than one vital
point, I am glad to think that he is with you-a gentleman, a soldier, a man of property in the county, how
>an he be better employed than  in forwarding the




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.          187
county's amusements, and in forwarding the happiness
of all?
"H ad I no such scruples as those to which I have
just alluded, I must still have refrained from coming
among you. Your great Oldborough common-drainage and inclosure bill comes on to-night, and I shall be
at my post. I am sure, if Sir George Gorgon were
here, he and I should on this occasion vote side by side,
and that party strife would be forgotten in the object of
our common interest-our dear native town.
"There is, however, another occasion at hand, in
which I shall be proud to meet him. Your ball is on
the night of the 6th.  Party forgotten-brotherly union
-innocent mirth —beauty, our dear town's beauty, our
daughters in the joy of their expanding loveliness, our
matrons in the exquisite contemplation of their children's bliss,-can you, call I, can Whig or Tory, can
any Briton be indifferent to a scene like this, or refuse
to join in this heart-stirring festival? If there be such
let them pardon me,-I, for one, my dear Heeltap, will
be among you on Friday night, —ay, and hereby invite all pretty Tory Misses, who are in want of a
partner.
" I am here in the very midst of good things, you
know, and we old folks like a  suapper after a dance.
Please to accept a brace of bucks and a turtle, which
come herewith. My worthy colleague, who was so
liberal last year of his soup to the poor, will not, I trust,
refuse to taste a little of Alderman Birch's —'tis offered
on my part with hearty good will. Hey for the 6th,
and vive la joie.
"Ever, my dear Heeltap, your faithful,
TW. PIT'r SCULLY.




188       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
"P. S. Of course this letter is strictly private.
Say that the venison, &c., came from a well-wisher to
Oldborough.
This amazing letter was published in defiance of
Mr. Scully's injunctions by the enthusiastic Heeltap,
who said bluntly in a preface, " That he saw no reason
why Mr. Scully should be ashamed of his action, and
he, for his part, was glad to let all friends at Oldborough know of it."
The allusion about the Gorgon soup was killing;
thirteen paupers in Oldborough had, it was confidently
asserted, died of it. Lady Gorgon, on the reading of
this letter, was struck completely dumb-Sir George
Gorgon was wild-ten dozen of champagne was he
obliged to send down to the Gorgon Arms, to be
added to the festival. He would have stayed away if
he could, but he dared not.
At nine o'clock, he in general's uniform, his wife
in blue satin and diamonds, his daughters in blue crape
and white roses, his niece, Lucy Gorgon, in white muslin, his son, George Augustus Frederic Grimsby Gorgon, in a blue velvet jacket, sugar-loaf buttons, and
nankeens, entered the north door of the ball-room to
much cheering, and the sound of " God save the King!"
At that very same moment, and from the south
door, issued William Pitt Scully, Esq., M.P., and his
staff. Mr. Scully had a bran-new blue coat and brass
buttons, buff waistcoat, white kerseymere tights, pumps
with large rosettes, and pink silk stockings.
"This wool," said he to a friend, "was grown on
Oldborough sheep, this cloth was spun in Oldborough




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        189
looms, these buttons were cast in an Oldborough manufactory, these shoes were made by an Oldborough
tradesman, this heart first beat in Oldborough town,
and pray Heaven may be buried there!
Could any thing resist a man like this? John Perkins, who had come down as one of Scully's aides-decamp, in a fit of generous enthusiasm, leaped on a whisttable, flung up a pocket-handkerchief, and shrieked"; SCULLY FOR EVER!'"
Heeltap, who was generally drunk, fairly burst into
tears, and thegrave tradesmen and Whig gentry, who
had dined with the member at his inn, and accompanied him thence to the Gorgon Arms, lifted their deep
voices and shouted, "Hear! Good! Bravo! Noble!
Scully for ever! God bless him! and Hurra!"
The scene was tumultuously affecting, and when
young Perkins sprung down fiom the table, and came
blushing up to the member, that gentleman said,
"Thank you, Jack! thank you, my boy! THANK
you," in a way which made Perkins think that his supreme cup of bliss was quaffed, that he had but to die;
for that life had no other such joy in store for him.
Scully was Perkins's Napoleon-he yielded himself up
to the attorney, body and soul.
Whilst this scene was going on under one chandelier of the ball-room; beneath the other, scarlet little
General Gorgon, sumptuous Lady Gorgon, the daughter
and niece Gorgons were standing, surrounded by their
Tory court, who affected to sneer and titter at the
Whig demonstrations which were taking place.
" What a howwid thmell of withkey!" lisped Cornet
Fitch of the dragoons to Miss Lucy, confidentially'




190       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
"and thethe are what they call Whigth, are they?
he! he!"
"They are drunk,-me —drunk by   - i" said the
General to the Mayor.
"Which is Scully?" said Lady Gorgon, lifting her
glass gravely (she was at that very moment thinking
of the syllabubs). " Is it that tipsy man in the green
coat, or that vulgar creature in the blue one?"
"Law, my lady!" said the Mayoress; "have you
forgotten him? Why that's him in blue and buff."
"And a  monthous fine man too," said Cornet
Fitch; I wish we had him in our twoop-he'th thix
feet thwee, if he'th an inch; ain't he, genewal?"
No reply.
" And Heavens! mamma," shrieked the three Gorgons in a breath, " see, one creature is on the whisttable. Oh, the wretch!"
"I'm  sure he's very good looking," said Lucy,
simply.
Lady Gorgon darted at her an angry look, and
was about to say something very contemptuous, when,
at that instant, John Perkins's shout taking effect,
Master George Augustus Frederic Grimsby Gorgon, not
knowing better, incontinently raised a small shout on
his side.
"Hear! good! bravo!" exclaimed he!  "Scully
for ever! iurra-a-a-ay!" and fell skipping about like
the Whigs opposite.
" Silence, you brute, you!" groaned Lady Gorgon;
and seizing him by the shirt-frill and coat-collar, carried
him away to his nurse, who, with many other maids of
the Wlhiio and Tory parties, stood giggling and peeping,t tll e 1.1 1leind i 0, 18a.




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        191
Fancy how all these small incidents augmented the
heap of Lady Gorgon's anger and injuries! She was
a dull phlegmatic woman, for the most part, and contented herself generally with merely despising her
neighbours; but oh! what a fine active hatred raged in
her bosom for victorious Scully! At this moment Mr.
Perkins had finished shaking hands with his Napoleon
— Napoleon seemed bent upon some tremendous enterprise. He was looking at Lady Gorgon very hard.
"She's a fine woman," said Scully, thoughtfully;
he was still holding the hand of Perkins. And then,
after a pause, " Gad! I think I'll try."
"Try what, sir x"' She's a deuzced fine woman!" burst out again the
tender solicitor. " I wvill go. Springer, tell the fiddlers
to strike up."
Springer scuttled across the room, and gave the
leader of the band a knowing nod. Suddenly, " God
save the King " ceased, and " Sir Roger de Coverley"
began. The rival forces eyed each other; Mr. Scully,
accompanied by his friend, came forward, looking very
red, and fumbling two large kid gloves.
"H e's going to ask me to dance," hissed out Lady
Gorgon, with a dreadful intuition, and she drew back
behind her lord.
"D- it, madam, then dance with him!" said the
general. " Don't you see that the scoundrel is carrying
it all his own way; - him, and - - him, and - -
- him." (All of which dashes the reader may fill up
with oaths of such strength as may be requisite."
"General!" cried Lady Gorgon, but could say no
more. Scully was before her.




192       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
"Madam!" exclaimed the liberal member for Oldborough, "in a moment like this-I say-that is-that
on the present occasion-your ladyship-unaccustomed
as I am —pooh, psha-will your ladyship give me the
distinguished honour and pleasure of going down the
country-dance with your ladyship?"
An immense heave of her ladyship's ample chest
was perceptible. Yards of blond-lace, which might be
compared to a foam of the sea, were agitated at the
same moment, and by the same mighty emotion. The
river of diamonds which flowed round her ladyship's
neck, seemed to swell and to shine more than ever.
The tall plumes on her ambrosial head bowed down
beneath the storm. In other words, Lady Gorgon, in a
furious rage, which she was compelled to restrain,
trembled, drew up, and bowing majestically said,
"Sir, I shall have much pleasure."  With this, she
extended her hand. Scully, trembling, thrust forward
one of his huge kid gloves, and led her to the head of
the country-dance. John Perkins, who I presume had
been drinking pretty freely so as to have forgotten his
ordinary bashfulness, looked at the three Gorgons in
blue, then at the pretty smiling one in white, and stepping up to her, without the smallest hesitation, asked
her if she would dance with him. The young lady
smilingly agreed. The great example of Scully and
Lady Gorgon was followed by all dancing men and
women. Political enmities were forgotten. Whig voters
invited Tory voters' wives to the dance. The daughters of
Reform accepted the hands of the sons of Conservatives.
The reconciliation of the Romans and Sabines was not
more touching than this sweet fusion. Whack! whack!




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.          193
Mr. Springer clapped his hands; and the fiddlers adroitly obeying the cheerful signal, began playing "Sir
Roger de Coverley " louder than ever.
I do not know by what extraordinary charm (nescio
qua prceter solitum, &c.); but young Perkins, who all
his life had hated country-dances, was delighted with
this one, and skipped, and laughed, poussetting, crossing, down-the-middling, *with his merry little partner,
till every one of the better-most sort of the thirty-nine
couples had dropped panting away, and till the youngest Miss Gorgon, coming up to his partner, said, in a
loud hissing, scornful, whisper, "Lucy, mamma thinks
you have danced quite enough with this-this person."
And Lucy, blushing, starting back, and looking at
Perkins in a very melancholy way, made him a little
curtesy, and went off to the Gorgonian party with her
cousin. Perkins was too frightened to lead her back to
her place-too frightened at first, and then too angry.
"Person!" said he: his soul swelled with a desperate
republicanism: he went back to his patron more of a
radical than ever.
He found that gentleman in the solitary tea-room,
pacing up and down before the observant landlady and
handmaidens of the Gorgon Arms, wiping his brows,
gnawing his fingers-his ears looming over his stiff
white shirt-collar, as red as fire. Once more the great
man seized John Perkins's hand as the latter came
up.
"6D- the aristocrats!" roared the ex-follower of
Squaretoes.
"And so say I; but what's the matter, sir?"
"What's the matter?-Why, that woman —that




194       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
infernal, haughty, straight-laced, cold-blooded, brewer's
daughter!  I loved that woman, sir —I  issed that
woman, sir, twenty years ago —we were all but engaged, sir-we've walked for hours and hours, sir; us
and the governess-I've got a lock of her hair, sir,
among my papers now-and to-night, would you believe it?-as soon as she got to the bottom of the set,
away she went-not one word would she speak to me
all the way down: and when I wanted to lead her to
her place, and asked her if she would have a glass of
negus,'Sir,' says she,'I have done my duty; I bear
no malice: but I consider you a traitor to Sir George
Gorgon's family-a traitor and an upstart! I consider
your speaking to me as a piece of insolent vulgarity, and
beg you will leave'me to myself!' There's her speech,
sir. Twenty people heard it, and all of her Tory set,
too. I'll tell you what, Jack, at the next election I'll
put you up. Oh! that woman! that woman! —and
to think that I love her still!" Here Mr. Scully paused,
and fiercely consoled himself by swallowing three cups
of Mrs. Rincer's green tea.
The fact is, that Lady Gorgon's passion had completely got the better of her reason. Her ladyship was
naturally cold and artificially extremely squeamish, and
when this great red-faced enemy of hers, looked tenderly at her through his red little eyes, and squeezed her
hand, and attempted to renew old acquaintance, she
felt such an intolerable disgust at his triumph, at his
familiarity, and at the remembrance of her own former
liking for him, that she gave utterance to the speech
above correctly reported.  The Tories were delighted
with her spirit, and Cornet Fitch. with much glee, told




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        195
the story to the general; but that officer, who was at
whist with some of his friends, flung down his cards,
and coming up to his lady, said briefly,
"Madam, you are a fool!"
" I will not stay here to be bearded by that disgusting man! —Mr. Fitch, call my people. —Henrietta, bring
Miss Lucy from that linendraper with whom she is
dancing. I will not stay, General, once for all."
Henrietta ran-she hated her cousin; Cornet Fitch
was departing.  "Stop, Fitch," said Sir George, seizing
him by the arm.-" You are a fool, Lady Gorgon," said
he, " and I repeat it-a ---- fool! This fellow, Scully,
is carrying all before him: he has talked with every
body, laughed with every body-and you, with your
infernal airs-a brewer's daughter, by -—, must sit
like a queen, and not speak to a soul! You've lost me
one seat of my borough, with your infernal pridefifteen hundred a year, by Jove! —and you think you
will bully me out of another. No, madam, you shall
stay, and stay supper too-and the girls shall dance
with every cursed chimneysweep and butcher in the
room: they shall, confound me 1"
Her ladyship saw that it was necessary to submit;
and Mr. Springer, the master of the ceremonies was
called, and requested to point out some eligible partners for the young ladies. One went off with a whig
auctioneer; another figured in a quadrille with a very
liberal apothecary, and the third, Miss Henrietta, remained.
"Hallo! you sir," roared the little general to John
Perkins, who was passing by. John turned round and
faced him.




196       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
"You were dancing with my niece just now-show
us your skill now, and dance with one of my daughters.
Stand up, Miss Henrietta Gorgon —Mr. What's-yourname?"
"My name," said John, with marked and majestic
emphasis, "is PERKINS," and he looked towards Lucy
who dared not look again.
"Miss Gorgon-Mr. Perkins. There, now go and
dance."
" Mr. Perkins regrets, madam," said John, making
a bow to Miss Henrietta, "that he is not able to dance
this evening. I am this moment obliged to look to
the supper, but you will find, no doubt, some other
PERSON who will have much pleasure."
" Go to -, sir!" scireamed the General, starting up,
and shaking his cane.
" Calm yourself, dearest George," said Lady Gorgon,
clinging fondly to him. Fitch twiddled his mustaches.
Miss Henrietta Gorgon stared with open mouth. The
silks of the surrounding dowagers rustled-the countenances of all looked grave.
"I will follow you, sir, wherever you please; and
you may hear of me whenever you like," said'Mr.
Perkins, bowing and retiring.  He heard little Lucy
sobbing in a corner. He was lost at once-lost in love;
he felt as if he could combat fifty generals! he never
was so happy in his life 1
The supper came; but as that meal cost five shillings a head, General Gorgon dismissed the four spinsters of his family homewards in the carriage, and so
saved himself a pound.  This added to Jack Perkins's
wrath; he had hoped to have seen Miss Lucy once




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        197
more. IIe was a steward, and, in the General's teeth,
would have done his duty.  He was thinking how he
would have helped her to the most delicate chickenwings and blanc-manges, how he would have made her
take champagne.  Under the noses of indignant aunt
and uncle, what glorious fun it would have been!
Out of place as Mr. Scully's present was, and though
Lady Gorgon and her party sneered at the vulgar notion of venison and turtle for supper, all the world at
Oldborough ate very greedily of those two substantial
dishes; and the mayor's wife became fiom' that day
forth a mortal enemy of the Gorgons: for, sitting near
her ladyship, who refused the proffered soup and meat,
the mayoress thought herself obliged to follow this disagreeable example. She sent away the plate of turtle
with a sigh, saying, however, to the baronet's lady, "I
thought, mem, that the Lord Mayor of London always
had turtle to his supper."
"' And what if he didn't, Biddy?" said his honour
the mayor; "a good thing's a good thing, and here
goes!" wherewith he plunged his spoon into the savoury
mess. The mayoress, as we have said, dared not; but
she hated Lady Gorgon, and remembered it at the next
election.
The pride, in fact, and insolence of the Gorgon
party, rendered every person in the room hostile to
them; so soon as, gorged with meat, they began to
find that courage which Britons invariably derive from
their victuals. The show of the Gorgon plate seemed
to offend the people. The Gorgon champagne was a
long time, too, in making its appearance. Arrive, however, it did; the people were waiting for it.  The




198       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
young ladies not accustomed to that drink, declined
pledging their admirers until it was produced; the
men, too, despised the bucellas and sherry —and were
looking continually towards the door.  At last Mr.
Rincer, the landlord, Mr. Hock, Sir George's butler, and
sundry others, entered the room. Bang went the corks
-fizz the foamy liquor sparkled into all sorts of glasses
that were held out for its reception. Mr. Hock helped
Sir George and his party, who drank with great gusto:
the wine which was administered to the persons immediately around Mr. Scully, was likewise pronounced to
be good. But Mr. Perkins, who had taken his seat
among the humbler individuals, and in the very middle
of the table, observed that all these persons after drinking. made to each other very wry and ominous faces,
and whispered much. He tasted his wine-it was a
villanous compound of sugar, vitriol, soda, water, and
green gooseberries. At this moment a great clatter of
forks was made by the president's and vice-president's
party. Silence for a toast-'twas silence all.
"Landlord," said Mr. Perkins, starting up (the
rogue, where did his impudence come from?) "have
you any champagne of your own?"
"Silence! down!" roared the Tories, the ladies
looking aghast. "Silence, sit down, you!" shrieked
the well-known voice of the General.
"I beg your pardon, General," said young John
Perkins; but where could you have bought this champagne? My worthy friend I know is going to propose
the ladies; let us at any rate drink such a toast in
good wine."  (Hear, hear!)  "Drink her ladyship's
health in this stuff? I declare to goodness I would
sooner drink it in beer."




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.          199
No pen can describe the uproar which arose; the
anguish of the Gorgonites —the shrieks, jeers, cheers,
ironic cries of "Swipes, &c.!" which proceeded from
the less genteel, but more enthusiastic Scullyites.
*" This vulgarity is too much," said Lady Gorgon,
rising; and Mrs. Mayoress, and the ladies of the party
did so too.
The General, two squires, the clergyman, the Gorgon apothecary and attorney, with their respective
ladies, followed her —they were plainly beaten from the
field. Such of the Tories as dared, remained, and in
inglorious compromise shared the jovial Whig feast.
"Gentlemen and ladies," hiccupped Mr. ileeltap,
", I'll give you a toast,' Champagne to our real-hicfriends,' no,'real champagne to our friends,' and-hic —
pooh!'Champagne to our friends, and real pain to
our enemies,' —huzzay!"
The Scully faction on this day bore the victory
away, and if the polite reader has been shocked by certain vulgarities on the part of Mr. Scully and his
friends, he must remember imnprimis that Oldborough
was an inconsiderable place —that the inhabitants thereof were chiefly trades-people, not of refined habitsthat Mr. Scully himself had only for three months
mingled among the aristocracy-that his young friend,
Perkins, was violently angry-and finally, and to conclude, that the proud vulgarity of the great Sir George
Gorgon and his family, were infinitely more odious and
contemptible than the mean vulgarity of the Scullyites
and their leader.
Immediately after this event, Mr. Scully and his
young friend, Perkins, returned to town; the latter to




200       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
iis garrets in Bedford-row-the former to his apartments on the first floor of the same house. He lived
here to superintend his legal business, of which the
London agents, Messrs. Higgs, Biggs & Blatherwick,
occupied the ground-floor-the junior partner, Mr. Gustavus Blatherwick, occupying the second-flat of the
house. Scully made no secret of his profession or residence-he was an attorney, and proud of it —he was
the grandson of a labourer, and thanked God for ithe had made his fortune by his own honest labour, and
why should he be ashamed of it?
And now, having explained at full length who the
several heroes and heroines of this history were, and
how they conducted themselves in the country, let us
describe their behaviour in London, and the great
events which occurred there.
You must know that Mr. Perkins bore away the
tenderest recollections of the young lady with whom he
had danced at the Oldborough ball, and, having taken
particular care to find out where she dwelt when
in the metropolis, managed soon to become acquainted
with aunt Biggs, and made himself so amiable to
that lady, that she begged he would pass all his
disengaged evenings at; her lodgings in Carolineplace. Mrs. Biggs was p'erfectly aware that the young
gentleman did not come for her bohea and muffins, so
much as for the sweeter conversation of her niece, Miss
Gorgon; but seeing that these two young people were
of an age when ideas of love and marriage will spring
up, do what you will; seeing that her niece had a
fortune, and Mr. Perkins had the prospect of a place,
and was moreover a very amiable and well-disposed




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        201
young fellow, she thought her niece could not do better
than marry him; and Miss Gorgon thought so too.
Now the public will be able to understand the meaning
of that important conversation which is recorded at the
very commencement of this history.
Lady Gorgon and her family were likewise in town;
but when in the metropolis, they never took notice of
their relative, Miss Lucy; the idea of acknowledging
an ex-schoolmistress, living in Mecklenburgh-square,
being much too preposterous for a person of my Lady
Gorgon's breeding and fashion. She did not, therefore,
know of the progress which sly Perkins was making all
this while; for Lucy Gorgon did not think'it was at
all necessary to inform her ladyship how deeply she
was smitten by the wicked young gentleman, who had
made all the disturbance at the Oldborough ball.
The intimacy of these young persons had, in fact, become so close, that on a certain sunshiny Sunday in December, after having accompanied aunt Riggs to church,
they had pursued their walk: as far as that rendezvous of lovers —the Regent's Park, and were talking
of their coming marriage with much confidential tenderness, before the bears in the Zoological Gardens.
Miss Lucy was ever and anon feeding those interesting animals with buns, to perform which act of charity, she had clambered up on the parapet which surrounds their den. Mr. Perkins was below; and Miss
Lucy, having distributed her buns, was on the point of
following,-but whether from timidity, or whether from
a desire to do young Perkins an essential service, I
know not; however, she found herself quite unwilling
to jump down unaided.
9*




202       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
"My dearest John," said she, "I never can jump
that."
Whereupon, John stepped up, put one hand round
Lucy's waist; and as one of hers gently fell upon his
shoulder, Mr. Perkins took the other, and said,"Now jump."'Hoop! jump she did, and so excessively active and
clever was Mr. John Perkins, that he jumped Miss Lucy
plump into the middle of a group formed of
Lady Gorgon,
The Misses Gorgon,
Master George Augustus Frederic Grimsby Gorgon,
And a footman, poodle, and French governess,
who had all been for two or three minutes listening to
the billings and cooings of these imprudent young
lovers.
CHAPTER II.
SHOWS HOW THE PLOT BEGAN TO THItUiUx  JL.N USC AIBU'I'
BEDFORD-ROW.
"Miss Lucy!"
"Upon my word!"
"I'm  hanged if it arn't Lucy! How do, Lucy."
uttered Lady, the Misses, and Master Gorgon in a breath.
Lucy came forward, bending down her ambrosial
curls, and blushing, as a modest young woman should;
for, in truth, the scrape was very awkward, and as for
John Perkins, he made a start, and then a step for



THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        203
wards, and then two backwards, and then began laying
hands upon his black satin stock-in short, the sun did
not shine at that moment upon a man who looked so
exquisitely foolish.
" Miss Lucy Gorgon, is your aunt-is Mrs. Briggs
here?" said Gorgon, drawing herself up with much
state.
" Mrs. Biggs, aunt," said Lucy demurely.
"Biggs or Briggs, madam, it is not of the slightest
consequence. I presume that persons in my rank of
life are not expected to know every body's name in
Magdeburg-square?" (Lady Gorgon had a house in
Baker-street, and a dismal house it was.)  "2Not here,"
continued she, rightly interpreting Lucy's silence, "NOT
here?-and may I ask how long is it that young ladies
have been allowed to walk abroad without chaperons,
and to-to take a part in such scenes as that which we
have just seen acted 2"
To this question —and indeed it was rather difficult
to answer-Miss Gorgon had no reply. There were
the six grey eyes of her cousins glowering at herthere was George Augustus Frederic examining her
with an air of extreme wonder, Mademoiselle the
governess turning her looks demurely away, and awful
Lady Gorgon glancing fiercely at her in front. Not
mentioning the footman and poodle, what could a
poor,. modest, timid girl plead before such an inquisition,
especially when she was clearly guilty? Add to this,
that as Lady Gorgon, that majestic woman, always remarkable for her size and insolence of demeanour, had
planted herself in the middle of the path, and spoke at
the extreme pitch of her voice, many persons walking




204       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
in the neighbourhood had heard her ladyship's speech
and stopped, and seemed disposed to await the rejoinder.
"For Heaven's sake, aunt, don't draw a crowd
around us," said Lucy, who, indeed, was glad of the
only escape that lay in her power. " I will tell you
of the-of the circumstances of-of my engagement
with this gentleman-with Mr. Perkins," added she,
in a softer tone-so soft that the'erkins was quite inaudible.
"A Mr. What? An engagement without consulting your guardians!" screamed her ladyship, "this
must be looked to! Jerningham, call round my carriage. Mademoiselle, you will have the goodness to
walk home with Master Gorgon, and carry him if you
please, where there is wet; and, girls, as the day is
fine, you will do likewise. Jerningham, you will attend
the young ladies. Miss Gorgon, I will thank you to
follow me immediately;" and so saying, and looking at
the crowd with ineffable scorn, and at Mr. Perkins not
at all, the lady bustled away forwards, the files of Gorgon daughters and governess closing round and enveloping poor Lucy, who found herself carried forward
against her will, and in a minute seated in her aunt's
coach, along with that tremendous person.
Her case was bad enough, but what was it to Perkins's? Fancy his blank surprise and rage at having
his' love thus suddenly ravished from him, and his delicious tete-a-tete interrupted. He managed, in an inconceivably short space of time, to conjure up half a
million obstacles to his union. What should he do?
he would rush on to Baker.street, and wait there until
his Lucy left Lady Gorgon's house.




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        205
He could find no vehicle for him  in the Regent's
Park, and was in consequence obliged to make his
journey on foot. Of course, he nearly killed himself
with running, and ran so quick, that he was just in
time to see the two ladies step out of Lady Gorgon's
carriage at her own house, and to hear Jerningham's
fellow-footman roar to the Gorgonian coachman, " Halfpast seven i" at which hour we are, to this day, convinced that Lady Gorgon was going out to dine. Mr.
Jerningham's associate having banged to the door, with
an insolent look towards Perkins, who was prying in
with the most suspicious and indecent curiosity, retired,
exclaiming, "That chap has a hi to our great-coats, I
reckon!" and left John Perkins to pace the street and
be miserable.
John Perkins then walked resolutely up and down
dismal Baker-street, determined on an eclaircissement.
He was for some time occupied in thinking how it was
that the Gorgons were not at church, they who made
such a parade of piety; and John Perkins smiled as he
passed the chapel, and saw that two charity sermons
were to be preached that day-and therefore it was that
General Gorgon read prayers to his family at home in
the morning.
Perkins, at last, saw that little general, in blue frockcoat and spotless buff gloves, saunter scowling home;
and half an hour before his arrival, had witnessed the
entrance of Jerningham, and the three gaunt Miss Gorgons, poodle, son-and-heir, and French governess, protected by him, into Sir George's mansion.
"Can she be going to stay all night?" mused poor
John, after being on the watch for three hours, "that




206       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
footman is the only person who has left the house,"
when presently, to his inexpressible delight, he saw a
very dirty hackney-coach clatter up to the Gorgon door,
out of which first issued the ruby plush breeches and
stalwart calves of Mr. Jerningham; these were followed
by his body, and then the gentleman, ringing modestly,
was admitted.
Again the door opened-a lady came out, nor was
she followed by the footman, who crossed his legs at
the door-post, and allowed her to mount the jingling
vehicle as best she might. Mr. Jerningham had witnessed the scene in the Park-gardens, had listened to
the altercation through the library keyhole, and had
been mighty sulky at being ordered to call a coach for
this young woman.  He did not therefore deign to
assist her to mount.
But there was one who did! Perkins was by the
side of his Lucy: he had seen her start back, and cry,
" La, John! "-had felt her squeeze his arm-had
mounted with her into the coach, and then shouted
with a voice of thunder to the coachman, "Carolineplace, Mecklenburgh-square."
But Mr. Jerningham would have been much more
surprised and puzzled if he had waited one minute
longer, and seen this Mr. Perkins, who had so gallantly
escaladed the hackney-coach, step out of it with the
most mortified, miserable, chapfallen countenance possible.
The fact is, he had found poor Lucy sobbing fit to
break her heart, and instead of consoling her as he expected, he only seemed to irritate her further: for she
said, " Mr. Perkins-I beg-I insist, that you leave the




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        207
carriage;" and when Perkins made some movement,
(which, not being in the vehicle at the time, we have
never been able to comprehend,) she suddenly sprung
from the back-seat, and began pulling at a large piece
of cord, which communicated with the wrist of the gentleman driving; and, screaming to him at the top of her
voice, bade him immediately stop.
This Mr. Coachman did, with a curious, puzzled,
grinning air.
Perkins descended, and on being asked, "Vereham
I to drive the young'oman, sir?" I am sorry to say
muttered something like an oath, and uttered the abovementioned  words, " Caroline-place,  Mecklenburghsquare," in a tone which I should be inclined to describe as both dogged and sheepish, -very different
from that cheery voice, which he had used when he first
gave the order.
Poor Lucy, in the course of those fatal three hours
which had passed while Mr. Perkins was pacing up and
down Baker-street, had received a lecture which lasted
exactly one hundred and eighty minutes-from her
aunt first, then from her uncle, whom we have seen
marching homewards, and often from both together.
Sir George Gorgon and his lady poured out such
a flood of advice and abuse against the poor girl, that
she came away from the interview quite timid and cowering; and when she saw John Perkins (the sly rogue!
how-well he thought he had managed the trick!) she
shrunk from him as if he had been a demon of wickedness, ordered him out of the carriage, and went home
by herself, convinced that she had committed some
tremendous sin.




208      THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
While, then, her coach jingled away to Carolineplace, Perkins, once more alone, bent his steps in the
same direction-a desperate heart-stricken man —he
passed by the beloved's door-saw lights in the front
drawing-room-felt probably that she was there-but
he could not go in. Moodily he paced down Doughltystreet, and tulning abruptly into Bedford-row, rushed
into his own chambers, where Mrs. Snooks, the laundress,
had prepared his humble sabbath meal..
A cheerful fire blazed in his garret, and Mrs. Snooks
had prepared for him the favourite blade-bone he loved
(blest four days' dinner for a bachelor, roast, cold,
hashed, grilled blade-bone, the fourth being better than
the first); but although he usually did rejoice in this
meal, ordinarily, indeed, grumbling that there was not
enough to satisfy him-he, on this occasion, after two
mouthfuls, flung down his knife and fork, and buried
his two claws in his hair.
"Snooks," said he at last, very moodily, " remove
this d- mutton, give me my writing things, and some
hot brandy-and-water."
This was done without much alarm, for you must
know that Perkins used- to dabble in poetry, and ordinarily prepared himself for composition by this kind of
stimulus.
He wrote hastily a few lines.
"Snooks, put on your bonnet," said he, " and carry
this-you know where?" he added, in such a hollow,
heart-breaking tone of voice, that affected poor Snooks
almost to tears. She went, however, with the note,
which was to this purpose:



THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        209
"Lucy! Lucy! my soul's love-what, what has
happened? I am writing this (a gulp of brandy-andwater) in a state bordering on distraction-lmadnessinsanity (another). Why did you send me out of the
coach in that cruel, cruel way? Write to me a word,
a line-tell me, tell me, I may come to you-and leave
me not in this agonizing condition; your faithful (glog
-glog-glog,-the whole glass).          "J. P."
He never signed John Perkins in full-he couldn't,
it was so unromantic.
Well, this missive was despatched by Mrs. Snooks,
and Perkins, in a fearful state of excitement, haggard,
wild, and with more brandy-and-water, awaited the return of his messenger.
When at length, after about an absence of forty
years, as it seemed to him, the old lady returned with
a large packet, Perkins seized it with a trembling hand,
and was yet more frightened to see the handwriting of
Mrs. or Miss Biggs.
"My dear Mr. Perkins," she began, " although I
am  not your soul's adored, I performed her part for
once, since I have read your letter, as I told her;-you
need not be very much alarmed, although Lucy is at
this moment in bed and unwell, for the poor girl has
had a sad scene at her grand uncle's house in Bakerstreet, and came home very much affected. Rest, however, will restore her, for she is not one of your nervous
sort, and I hope when you come in the morning, you
will see her as blooming as she was when you went out
to-day on that unlucky walk.




210       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
"See what Sir George Gorgon says of us all! You
won't challenge him I know, as he is to be your uncle,
and so I may show you his letter.
" Good night, my dear John; do not go quite distracted before morning; and believe me your loving
aunt,                        " BARBARA BIGGS."
".Baker-street, 11 December.
"Major-General Sir George Gorgon has heard with
the utmost disgust and surprise of the engagement
which Miss Lucy Gorgon has thought fit to form.
"The major-general cannot conceal his indignation
at the share which Miss Biggs has taken in this disgraceful transaction.
"Sir George Gorgon puts an absolute veto upon all
further communication between his niece and the lowborn adventurer who has been admitted into her society, and begs to say that Lieutenant Fitch, of the Lifeguards, is the gentleman who he intends shall marry
Miss Gorgon.
"It is the major-general's wish, that on the 28th
Miss Gorgon should be ready to come to his house, in
Baker-street, where she will be more safe from impertinent intrusions than she has been in Muckleburysquare.
"Mrs. Biggs,
"Caroline-place,
"Mecklenburgh-square."
When poor John Perkins read this epistle, blank
rage and wonder filled his soul, at the audacity of the
little general, who thus, without the smallest title in the




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.          211
world, pretended to dispose of the hand and fortune of
his niece. The fact is, that Sir George had such a
transcendent notion of his own dignity and station,
that it never for a moment entered his head that his
niece, or anybody else connected with him, should take
a single step in life without previously receiving his orders, and Mr. Fitch, a baronet's son, having expressed
an admiration of Lucy, Sir George had determined that
his suit.should be accepted, and really considered Lucy's
preference of another as downright treason.
John Perkins determined on the death of Fitch as
the very least reparation that should satisfy him; and
vowed too that some of the general's blood should be
shed for the words which he had dared to utter.
We have said that William Pitt Scully, Esq., M. P.,
occupied the first floor of Mr. Perkins's house, in Bedford-row; and the reader is further to be informed that
an immense friendship had sprung up between these
two gentlemen. The fact is, that poor John was very
much flattered by Scully's notice, and began in a very
short time to fancy himself a political personage; for
he had made several of Scully's speeches, written more
than one letter fiom him to his constituents, and, in a
word, acted as his gratis clerk. At least a guinea a
week did Mr. Perkins save to the pockets of Mr. Scully,
and with hearty good will too, for he adored the great
William Pitt, and believed every word that dropped
from the pompous lips of that gentleman.
Well, after having discussed Sir George Gorgon's
letter, poor Perkins, in the utmost fury of mind that
his darling should be slandered so, feeling a desire for
fresh air, determined to descend to the garden, and




212       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
smoke a cigar in that rural, quiet spot. The night was
very calm. The moonbeams slept softly upon the
herbage of Gray's Inn-gardens, and bathed with silver
splendour -Tibbald's-row.  A  million of little fiisky
twinkling stars attended their queen, who looked with
bland round face upon their gambols, as they peeped
in and out from the azule heavens. Along Gray's-inn
wall a lazy row of cabs stood listlessly, for who would
call a cab on such a night? Meanwhile their drivers,
at the alehouse near, smoked the short pipe or quaffed
the foaming beer. Perhaps from Gray's-inn-lane some
broken sounds of Irish revelry might rise. Issuing perhaps from Raymond-buildings gate, six lawyers' clerks
might whoop a tipsy song —or the loud watchman yell
the passing hour-but beyond this all was silence, and
young Perkins, as he sat in the summer-house at the
bottom of the garden, and contemplated the peaceful
heaven, felt some influences of it entering into his soul,
and almost forgetting revenge, thought but of peace
and love.
Presently, he was aware there was some one else
pacing the garden. Who could it be?-Not Blatherwick, for he passed the Sabbath with his granldmamma
at Clapham-not Scully surely, for he always went to
Bethesda chapel, and to a select prayer-meeting afterwards. Alas! it was Scully —for though that gentleman said that he went to chapel, we have it for a fact
that he did not always keep his promise, and was at
this moment employed in rehearsing an extempore
speech which he proposed to deliver at St. Stephen's.
"Had I, sir," spouted he, with folded arms, slowly
pacing to and fro, " had I, sir, entertained the smallest




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        213
possible intention of addressing the House on the present occasion-hum, on the present occasion-I would
have endeavoured to prepare myself in a way that
should have at least shown my sense of the greatness
of the subject before the House's consideration, and the
nature of the distinguished audience I have the honour
to address. I am, sir, a plain man- born of the people
-myself one of the people, having won, thank Heaven,
an honourable fortune and position by my own honest
labour; and standing here as I do-"
Here Mr. Scully (it may be said that he never made
a speech without bragging about himself, and an excellent plan it is, for people cannot help believing you
at last)-here, I say, Mr. Scully, who had one arm
raised, felt himself suddenly tipped on the shoulder,
and heard a voice saying, " Your money or your life! "
The honourable gentleman twirled round as if he
had been shot-the papers on which a great part of
this impromptu were written dropped from his lifted
hand, and some of them were actually borne on the
air into neighbouring gardens. The man was, in fact,
in the direst fright.
" It's only I," said Perkins, with rather a forced
laugh, when he saw the effect that his wit had produced.
" Only you! And pray what the dev —what right
have you to-to come upon a man of my rank in that
way, and disturb me in the midst of very important
meditations?" asked Mr. Scully, beginning to grow
fierce.
" I want your advice," said Perkins, " on a matter




214      THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
of the very greatest importance to me. You know my
idea of marrying?"
"Marry 1" said Scully; "I thought you had given
up that silly scheme. And how, pray, do you intend
to live?"
"Why, my intended has a couple of hundreds a
year, and my clerkship in the Tape-and-Sealing Wax
Office will be as much more."
"' Clerkship — Tape-and-Sealing-Wax Office-government sinecure!-Why, good Heavens i John Perkins, you don't tell me that you are going to accept any
such thing?"
"It is a very small salary, certainly," said John,
who had a decent notion of his own merits; "but
consider, six months' vacation, two hours in the day,
and those spent over the newspapers. After all, it's-"
"After all, it's a swindle," roared out Mr. Scully,
"a swindle upon the country; an infamous tax upon
the people, who starve that you may fatten in idleness.
But take this clerkship in the Tape-and-Sealing-Wax
Office," continued the- patriot, his bosom heaving with
noble indignation, and his eye flashing the purest fire,
— Take this clerkship, John Perkins, and sanction
tyranny, by becoming one of its agents; sanction dishonesty by sharing in its plunder-do this, BUT never
more be friend of mine. Had I a child," said the patriot, clasping his hands and raising his eyes to heaven,
"I would rather see him-dead, sir-dead, dead at my
feet, than the servant of a government which all honest
men despise;" and here giving a searching glance at
Perkins, Mr. Scully began tramping up and down the
garden in a perfect fury.




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.          215
"Good Heavens!" exclaimed the timid John Perkins-" don't say so. My dear Mr. Scully, I'm not the
dishonest character you suppose me to be-I never
looked at the matter in this light. I'll-I'll consider of it.
I'll tell Crampton that I will give up the place; but for
Heaven's sake, don't let me forfeit your friendship,
which is dearer to me than any place in the world."
Mr. Scully pressed his hand, and said nothing; and
though their interview lasted a full half hour longer,
during which they paced up and down the gravel-walk,
we shall not breathe a single syllable of their conversation, as it has nothing to do with our tale.
The next morning, after an interview with Miss
Lucy, John Perkins, Esq., was seen to issue from Mrs.
Bigg's house, looking particularly pale, melancholy, and
thoughtful; and he did not stop until he reached a
certain door in Downing-street, where was the office of
a certain great minister, and the offices of the clerks in
his lordship's department.
The head of them was Mr. Josiah Crampton, who
has now to be introduced to the public. He was a
little old gentleman, some sixty years of age, maternaluncle to John Perkins; a bachelor, who had been about
forty-two years employed in the department of which
he was now the head.
After waiting four hours in an anteroom, where a
number of Irishmen, some newspaper-editors, many
pompous-looking political personages, asking for the
"first lord;" a few sauntering clerks, and numbers of
swift active messengers passed to and fro. After waiting for four hours, making drawings on the blotting



216       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
book, and reading the Morning Post for that day
week, Mr. Perkins was informed that he might go into
his uncle's room, and did so accordingly.
He found a little hard old gentleman seated at a
table covered with every variety of sealing-wax, blottingpaper, envelopes, despatch-boxes, green-tapers, &c. &c.
An immense fire was blazing in the grate, an immense
sheet-almanac hung over that, a screen, three or four
chairs, and a faded Turkey carpet, formed the rest of
the furniture of this remarkable room, which I have
described thus particularly, because, in the course of a
long official life, I have remarked that such is the invariable decoration of political rooms.
"Well, John," said the little hard old gentleman,
pointing to an arm-chair, "rI'm told you've been here
since eleven. Why the deuce do you come so early?"
"I had important business," answered Mr. Perkins,
stoutly; and as his uncle looked up with a comical
expression of wonder, John began in a solemn tone to
deliver a little speech which he had composed, and
which proved him to be a very worthy, easy, silly
fellow.
" Sir," said Mr. Perkins, " you have known for some
time past the nature of my political opinions, and the
intimacy which I have had the honour to form with
one-with some, of the leading members of the liberal
party. (A grin from Mr. Crampton.) When first, by
your kindness, I was promised the clerkship in the
Tape-and-Sealing-Wax Office, my opinions were not
formed as they are now; and having taken the advice
of the gentlemen with whom I act,-(an enormous
grin,)-the advice, I say, of the gentlemen with whom




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.          2117
I act, and the counsel likewise of my own conscience, I
am compelled, with the deepest grief, to say, my dear
uncle, that I-I —"
"That you —what, sir? "  exclaimed  little  Mr.
Crampton, bouncing off his chair.  "You don't mean
t( say that you are such a fool as to decline the
place l"
" I do decline the place," said Perkins, whose blood
rose at the word " fool;" " as a man of honour, I cannot take it."
" Not take it! and how are you to live? On the
rent of that house of yours? For by gad, sir, if you
give up the clerkship, I never will give you a shilling."
"It cannot be helped," said Mr. Perkins, looking as
much like a martyr as he possibly could, and thinking
himself a very fine fellow.  "I have talents, sir, which
I::hope to cultivate; and am member of a profession by
which a man may hope to rise to the very highest
offices of the state."
"Profession, talents, offices of the state! Are you
mad, John Perkins, that you come to me with such insufferable twaddle as this?" Why, do you think if
you had been capable of rising at the bar, I would have
taken so much trouble about getting you a place? No,
sir; you are too fond of pleasure, and bed, and tea-parties,
and small-talk, and reading novels, and playing the
flute, and writing sonnets. You would no more rise at
tle bar than my messenger, sir; it was because I knew
your disposition-that hopeless, careless, irresolute,
good humour of yours, that I had determined to keep
you out of danger, by placing you in a snug shelter,
where the storms of the world would not come near
10




218. THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
you. You must have principles, forsooth! and you
must marry Miss Gorgon, of course; and by the time
you have gone tencircuits, and had six children, you
will have eaten up every shilling of your wife's fortune,
and be as briefless as you are now. Who the deuce
has put all this nonsense into your head? I think I
know."
Mr. Perkins's ears tingled as these hard words saluted them; and he scarcely knew whether he ought to
knock his uncle down or fall at his feet, and say,
" Uncle, I have been a fool, and I know it." The fact
is, that in his interview with Miss Gorgon and her aunt
in the morning, when he came to tell them of the resolution he had formed to give up the place, both the
ladies and John himself had agreed, with a thousand
rapturous tears and exclamations, that he was one of the
noblest young men that ever lived, had acted as became
himself, and might with perfect propriety give up the
place, his talents being so prodigious that no power on
earth could hinder him from being lord chancellor.
Indeed, John and Lucy had always thought the clerkship quite beneath him, and were not a little glad, perhaps, at finding a pretext for decently refusing it. But
as Perkins was a young gentleman whose candour was
such that he was always swayed by the opinions of
the last speaker, he did begin to feel now the truth
of his uncle's statements, however disagreeable they
might be.
Mr. Crampton continued:"I think I know the cause of your patriotism.
Has not William Pitt Scully, Esq., had something to do
with it?"




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.       219
Mr. Perkins could not turn any redder than he was,
but confessed with deep humiliation that "he had consulted Mr. Scully, among other friends."
Mr. Crampton smiled-drew a letter from a heap
before him, and, tearing off the signature, handed over
the document to his nephew. It contained the following paragraphs:"Hawksby has sounded Scully: we can have him
any day we want him. He talks very big at present,
and says he would not takeanything undera *  *'.
This is absurd. He has a Yorkshire nephew coming
up to town, and wants a place for him. There is one
vacant in the Tape Office, he says: have you not a promise of it?"
"I can't-I can't believe it," said John; "this, sir,
is some weak invention of the enemy. Scully is the
most honourable man breathing.":" Mr. Scully is a gentleman in a very fair way to
make a fortune," answered Mr. Crampton. " Look you,
John-it is just as well for your sake that I should
give you the news a few weeks before the papers, for I
don't want you to be ruined if I can help it, as I don't
wish to have you on my hands. We know all the
particulars of Scully's history. He was a Tory attorney
at Oldborough; he was jilted by the present Lady
Gorgon I turned Radical, and fought Sir George in his
own borough. Sir George would have had the peerage
he is dying for, had he not lost that second seat (bythe-by, my lady will be here in five minutes), and
Scully is now quite firm there. Well, my dear lad, we
have bought your incorruptible Scully. Look here,"and Mr. Crampton produced three.Morning Posts.




220       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
"' THE HONOURABLE HENRY HAWKSBY'S DINNER
PARTY-Lord  So-and-so —Duke  of So-aild-So- W
Pitt Scully, Esq., M.P.'
"Hawksby is. our neutral, our dinner-giver.
"' LADY DIANA DOLDRUM'S RoUT. —-W. Pitt Scully,
Esq., again.'
"' THE EARL OF MANTRAP'S GRAND DINNER.-A
duke-four lords-Mr. Scully, and Sir George Goryon. "
"' Well, but I don't see how you have bought him;
look at his votes."
"My dear John," said Mr. Crampton, jingling his
watch-seals very complacently, "I aln letting you into
fearful secrets. The great common end of party is to
buy your opponents —the great statesman buys them
for nothing."
Here the attendant genius of Mr. Crampton made
his appearance, and whispered something, to which the
little gentleman said, " Show her ladyship in,"-when
the attendant disappeared.
"John," said Mr. Crampton, with a very queer
smile, "you can't stay in this room while Lady Gorgon
is with me; but there is a little clerk's room behind the
screen there, where you can wait until I call you."
John retired, and as he closed the door of communication, strange to say, little Mr. Crampton sprung up and
said, " Confound the young ninny, he has shut the door!"
Mr. Crampton then, remembering that he wanted a
map in the next room, sprang into it, left the door
half open in coming out, and was in time to receive her
ladyship with- smiling face as she, ushered by Mr.
Strongitharm, majestically sailed in.




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        221
CHAPTER III.
IN issuing from, and leaving open, the door of the
inner room, Mr. Crampton had bestowed upon Mr. Perkins a look so peculiarly arch, that even he, simple as
he was, began to imagine that some mystery was about
to be cleared up, or some mighty matter to be discussed.
Presently he heard the well-known voice of Lady Gorgon in conversation with his uncle. What could their
talk be about? Mr. Perkins was dying to know, and,
shall we say it? advanced to the door on tiptoe and
listened with all his might.
Her ladyship, that Juno of a woman, if she had not
borrowed Venus's girdle to render herself irresistible, at
least had adopted a tender, coaxing, wheedling, firisky
tone, quite different from her ordinary dignified style of
conversation. She called Mr. Crampton a naughty man,
for neglecting his old friends, vowed that Sir George
was quite hurt at his not coming to dine —nor fixing a
day when he would come —and added with a most engagilg ogle, that she had three fine girls at home, who
would perhaps make an evening pass pleasantly, even
to such a gay bachelor as Mr. Crampton.
" Madam," said he, with much gravity,-" the daughters of such a mother must be charming, but I, who
have seen your ladyship, am, alas! proof against even
them."
Both parties here heaved tremendous sighs, and
affected to be wonderfully unhappy about something.




222      THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
"I wish," after a pause, said Lady Gorgon —" I
wish, dear Mr. Crampton, you would not use that odious
title'my ladyship,' you know it always makes me
melancholy."
"Melancholy, my dear Lady Gorgon, and why 2"
"Because it makes me think of another title that
ought to have been mine-ours (I speak for dear Sir
George's and my darling boy's sake, heaven knows, not
mine). What a sad disappointment it has been to my
husband, that after all his services, all the promises he
has had, they have never given him his peerage. As
for me, you know —"
"For you, my dear madam. I know quite well that
you care for no such bauble as a coronet, except in so
far as it may confer honour upon those most dear to
you-excellent wife and noble mother as you are.
Hleigho! what a happy man is Sir George!"
Here there was another pause, and if Mr. Perkins
could have seen what was taking place behind the
screen, he would have beheld little Mr. Crampton looking into Lady Gorgon's face, with as love-sick a
Romeo-gaze as he could possibly counterfeit, while her
ladyship, blushing somewhat and turning her own
grey gogglers up to heaven, received all his words for
gospel, and sat fancying herself to be the best, most
meritorious, and most beautiful creature in the three
kingdoms.
"You men are terrible flatterers," continued she,
"but you say right, for myself I value not these empty
distinctions. I am growing old, Mr. Crampton,-yes,
indeed, I am, although you smile so incredulously,and let me add, that my thoughts are fixed upon




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        223
higher things than earthly crowns. But tell me, you
who are all-in-all with Lord Bagwig, are we never to
have our peerage? His majesty, I know, is not averse;
the services of dear Sir George to a member of his majesty's august family, I know, have been appreciated in
the highest quarter. Ever since the peace we have
had a promise. Four hundred pounds has Sir George
spent at the herald's office, (I, myself, am of one of
the most ancient families in the kingdom, Mr. Crampton,) and the poor dear man's health is really ruined
by the anxious, sickening feeling of hope so long delayed."
Mr. Crampton now assumed an air of much solemnity.
" My dear Lady Gorgon," said he, " will you let me
be frank with you, and will you promise solemnly that
what I am going to tell you shall never be repeated to
a single soul?"
Lady Gorgon promised.
"Well, then, since the truth you must know, you
yourselves have been in part the cause of the delay of
which you complain.  You gave us two votes five
years ago; you now only give us one. If Sir George
were to go up to the Peers, we should lose even that
one vote; and would it be common sense in us to incur such a loss? Mr. Scully, the Liberal, would return another member of his own way of thinking;
and as for the Lords, we have, you know, a majority
there."
" Oh, that horrid mall!" said Lady Gorgon, cursing
Mr. Scully in her heart, and beginning to play a rapid
tattoo with her feet, " that miscreant, that traitor, that
-that attorlney has been our ruin."




224      THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY'.
"H orrid man if you please, but give me leave to
tell you that the horrid man is not the sole cause of
your ruin-if ruin you will call it. I am sorry to say
that I do candidly think ministers think that Sir
George Gorgon has lost his influence in Oldborough as
much through his own fault, as through Mr. Scully's
cleverness."
"Our own fault! Good heavens! Have we not
done everything-everything that persons of our station in the county could do, to keep those misguided
men? Have we not remonstrated, threatened, taken
away our custom from the mayor, established a Conservative apothecary-in fact done all that gentlemen could do? But these are such times, Mr. Crampton, the spirit of revolution is abroad, and the great
families of England are menaced by democratic insolence."
This was Sir George Gorgon's speech always after
dinner, and was delivered by his lady with a great
deal of stateliness. Somewhat, perhaps, to her annoyance, Mr. Crampton only smiled, shook his head, and
said"Nonsense, my dear Lady Gorgon-pardon the
phrase, but I am a plain old man, and call things by
their names. Now, will you let me whisper in your
ear one word of truth? You have tried all sorts of
remonstrances, and exerted yourself to maintain your
influence in every way, except the right one, and that
is!-"
" What, in Heaven's name?'
"Conciliation.  We know your situation in the
borough. Mr. Scully's whole history, and, pardon me




THE BEDFORD ROW CONSPIRACY.        225
for saying so, (but we men in office know everything,)
yours-"
Lady Gorgon's ears and cheeks now assumed the
hottest hue of crimson. She thought of her former
passages with Scully, and of the days when-but
never mind when, for she suffered her veil to fall,
and buried her head in the folds of her handkerchief.
Vain folds! The wily little Mr. Crampton could see all
that passed behind the cambric, and continued"Yes, madam, we know the absurd hopes that
were formed by a certain attorney twenty years since.
We know how, up to this moment, he boasts of certain
walks —"
"With the- governess-we were always with the
governess!" shrieked out Lady Gorgon, clasping her
hands. She was not the wisest of women."' With the governess, of course," said Mr. Crampton, firmly.  "Do you suppose that any man dare
breathe a syllable against your spotless reputation?
Never, my dear madam; but what I would urge is
this-you have treated your disappointed admirer too
cruelly."
"What, the traitor who has robbed us of our
rights?"
" He never would have robbed you of your rights if
you had been more kind to him. You should be gentle, madam; you should forgive him —you should be
friends with him."
" With a traitor, never!"
"Think what made him a traitor, Lady Gorgon;
look inll your glass, and say if there be not some excuse
for him. Think of the feelings of the man who saw
10*




226       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
beauty such as yours-I am a plain man and must
speak-Virtue such as yours, in the possession of a
rival. By heavens, madam, I think he was right to
hate Sir George Gorgon! Would you have him allow
such a prize to be ravished from him without a pang
on his part?"
"He was, I believe, very much attached to me,"
said Lady Gorgon quite delighted; "but you must be
aware that a young man of his station in life, could not
look up to a person of my rank."
" Surely not; it was monstrous pride and arrogance
in Mr. Scully; but que voulez vous?  Such is the
world's way-Scully could not help loving you-who
that knows you can? I am a plain man, and say
what I think. He loves you still. Why make an
enemy of him, who would at a word be at your feet?
Dearest Lady Gorgon, listen to me. Sir George Gorgon and Mr. Scully have already met-their meeting
was our contrivance, it is for our interest, for yours,
that they should be friends; if there were two ministerial members for Oldborough, do you think your husband's peerage would be less secure? I am not at
liberty to tell you all I know on this subject; but do, I
entreat you, do be reconciled to him."
And after a little more conversation which was carried on by Mr. Crampton in the same tender way,
this important interview closed, and Lady Gorgon,
folding her shawl round her, threaded certain mysterious passages, and found her way to her carriage in
XWhiteliall..
" I hope you have not been listening, you rogue,"
said Mr. Crampton to his nephew, who blushed most




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        227
absurdly by way of answer. " You would have heard
great state secrets, if you had dared to do so. That
woman is perpetually here, and if peerages are to be
had for the asking, she ought to have been a duchess
by this time. I would not have admitted her but for a
reason that I have.  Go you now and ponder upon
what you have heard and seen.  Be on good terms
with Scully, and above all, speak not a word concerning our interview-no, not a word even to your mistress. By the way, I presume, sir, you will recall your
resignation."
The bewildered Perkins was about to stammer out
a speech, when his uncle, cutting it short, pushed him
gently out of the door.
At the period when the important events occurred
which have been recorded here, parties ran very high,
and a mighty struggle for the vacant speakership was
about to come on.  The Right Honourable Robert
Pincher was the ministerial candidate, and Sir Charles
Macabaw was patronised by the opposition. The two
members for Oldborough of course took different sides,
the baronet being of the Pincher faction, while Mr.
William Pitt Scully strongly supported the Macabaw
party.
It was Mr. Scully's intention to deliver an impromptu speech upon the occasion of the election, and
he and his faithful Perkins prepared it between them;
for the latter gentleman had wisely kept his uncle's
counsel and his own, and Mr. Scully was quite ignorant
of the conspiracy that was brooding. Indeed, so artfully had that young Macbhiavel of a Perkins conducted




228       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
himself, that when asked by his patron whether he had
given up his place in the Tape-and-Sealing-Wax Office,
he replied that, "he had tendered his resignation," but
did not say one word about having recalled it.
"You were right, my boy, quite right," said Mr.
Scully; "a man of uncompromising principles should
make no compromise;" and herewith he sat down and
wrote off a couple of letters, one to Mr. Ringwood, telling him that the place in the Sealing-Wax Office was,
as he had reason to know, vacant; and the other to
his nephew, stating that it was to be his.  "Under the
rose, my dear Bob," added Mr. Scully, "it will cost you
five hundred pounds, but you cannot invest your money
better."
It is needless to state that the affair lvas to be conducted "with the strictest secrecy and honour." and
that the money was to pass through Mr. Scully's
hands.
While, however, the great Pincher and Macabaw
question was yet undecided, an event occurred to Mr.
Scully which had a great influence upon his after-life.
A second grand banquet was given at the Earl of Mantrap's; Lady Mantrap requested him to cQnduct Lady
Gorgon to dinner, and the latter, with a charming
timidity, and a gracious melancholy look into his face,
(after which her veined eyelids veiled her azure eyes,)
put her hand into the trembling one of Mr. Scully, and
said, as much as looks could say, " Forgive and forget."
Down went Scully to dinner; there were dukes on
his light hand, and earls on his left; there were but
two persons without title in the midst of that glittering
assemblage; the very servants looked like noblemen,




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.         229
the cook had done wonders, the wines were cool and
rich, and Lady Gorgon was splendid! What attention
did every body pay to her and to him! Why would
she go on gazing into his face with that tender, imploring look?  In other words, Scully, after partaking
of soup and fish, (he, during their discussion, had been
thinking over all the former love-and-hate passages between himself and Lady Gorgon,) turned very red, and
began talking to her.
"Were you not at the opera on Tuesday?" began
he, assuming at once the airs of a man of fashion.  "1
thought I caught a glimpse of you in the Duchess of
Diddlebury's box."
" Opera, Mr. Scully!" (pronouncing the word
"Scully" with the utmost softness.)  "Ah, no! we
seldom go, and yet too often. For serious persons the
enchantments of that place are too dangerous-I am so
nervous-so delicate; the smallest trifle so agitates,
depresses, or irritates me, that I dare not yield myself
up to the excitement of music. I am too passionately
attached to it; and shall I tell you, it has such a strange
influence upon me, that the smallest false note almost
drives me to distraction, and fol that very reason I
hardly ever go to a concert or a ball."
"Egad," thought Scully, " I recollect when she
would dance down a matter of five-and-forty couple,
and jingle away at the Battle of Prague all day."
She continued, "Don't you recollect, I do-with,
oh, what regret!-that day at Oldborough race-ball,
when I behaved with such sad rudeness to you; you
will scarcely believe me, and yet I assure you'tis the
fact, the music had made me almost mad; do let me




230       TtHE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
ask your pardon for my conduct, I was not myself.
Oh, Mr. Scully! I am no worldly woman; I know my
duties, and I feel my wrongs. Nights and nights have
I lain awake weeping and thinking of that unhappy day.
That I should ever speak so to an old. friend, for we
were old fiiends, were we not?"
Scully did not speak; but his eyes were bursting
out of his head, and his face was the exact colour of a
deputy-lieutenant's uniform.
"That I should ever forget myself and you so!
How I have been longing for this opportunity to ask
you to forgive me! I asked Lady Mantrap, when I
heard you were to be here, to invite me to her party.
Come, I know you will forgive me-your eyes say you
will. You used to look so in old days, and forgive me
my caprices then. Do give me a little wine-we will
drink to the memory of old days."
Her eyes filled with tears, and poor Scully's hand
caused such a rattling and trembling of the glass and
the decanter, that the Duke of Doldrum, who had been,
during the course of this whispered sentimentality,
describing a famous run with the queen's hounds at the
top of his voice, stopped at the jingling of the glass,
and his tale was lost for ever. Scully hastily drank his
wine, and Lady Gorgon turned round to her next
neighbour, a little gentleman in black, between whom
and herself certain conscious looks passed.
"I am  glad poor Sir George is not here," said he,
smiling.
Lady Gorgon said, "Pooh, for shame!" The little
gentleman was no other than Josiah Crampton, Esq.,
that eminent financier, and he was now going through




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        231
the curious calculation which we mentioned in our last,
and by which you buy a man for nothing.  He intended to pay the very same price for Sir George Gorgon too, but there was no need to tell the baronet so;
only of this the reader must be made aware.
While Mr. Crampton was conducting this intrigue,
which was to bring a new recruit to the ministerial
ranks, his mighty spirit condescended to ponder upon
subjects of infinitely less importance, and to arrange
plans for the welfare of his nephew and the young woman to whom he had made a present of his heart.
These young persons, as we said before, had arranged
to live in Mr. Perkins's own house in Bedford-row. It
was of a peculiar construction, and might more properly be called a house and a half; for a snug little tenement of four chambers protruded from the back of the
house into the garden. These rooms communicated
with the drawing-rooms occupied by Mr. Scully; and
Perkins, who acted as his friend and secretary, used
frequently to sit in the one nearest the member's study,
in order that he might be close at hand to confer with
that great man. The rooms had a private entrance,
too, were newly decorated, and in them the young
couple proposed to live; the kitchen and garrets being
theirs likewise. What more could they need? We
are obliged to be particular in describing these apartments, for extraordinary events occurred therein.
To say the truth, until the present period Mr.
Crampton had taken no great interest in his nephew's
marriage, or, indeed, in the young man himself. The
old gentleman was of a saturnine turn, and inclined
to undervalue the qualities of Mr. Perkins, which




232       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
were, idleness, simplicity, enthusiasm, and easy goodnature.
"Such fellows never do any thing in the world,"
he would say, and for such he had accordingly the most
profound contempt. But when, after John Perkins's
repeated entreaties, he had been induced to make the
acquaintance of Miss Gorgon, he became instantly
charmed with her, and warmly espoused her cause
against her overbearing relations.
At his suggestion, she wrote back to decline Sir
George Gorgon's peremptory invitation, and hinted at
the same time that she had attained an age and a position which en.abled her to be the mistress of her own
actions. To This letter there came an answer from
Lady Gorgon which we shall not copy, but which
simply stated, that Miss Lucy Gorgon's conduct was
unchristian, ungrateful, unladylike, and immodest; that
the Gorgon family disowned her for the future, and
left her at liberty to form whatever base connections she
pleased.
"A  pretty world this," said Mr. Crampton, in a
great rage, when the letter was shown to him. "This
same fellow, Scully, dissuades my nephew from taking
a place, because Scully wants it for himself. This prude
of a Lady Gorgon cries out shame, and disowns an innocent amiable girl; she, a heartless jilt herself once,
and a heartless flirt now. The Pharisees, the Pharisees!
And to call mine a base family, too!"
Now, Lady Gorgon did not in the least know Mr.
Crampton's connection with Mr. Perkins, or she would
have been much more guarded in her language; but
whether she knew it or not, the old gentleman felt a




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.         233
huge indignation, and determined to have his revenge.
"That's right, uncle; shall I call Gorgon out?" said
the impetuous young Perkins, who was all for blood.
"John, you are a fool," said his uncle. " You shall
have a better revenge; you shall be married from Sir
George Gorgon's house, and you shall see Mr. William
Pitt Scully sold for nothing." This to the veteran
diplomatist, seemed to be the highest triumph which
man could possibly enjoy.
It was very soon to take place; and as has been
the case ever since the world began, woman, lovely
woman was to be the cause of Scully's fall. The tender scene at Lord Mantrap's was followed by many
others equally sentimental. Sir George Gorgon called
upon his colleague the very next day, and brought
with him a card from Lady Gorgon, inviting Mr. Scully
to dinner. The attorney eagerly accepted the invitation, was received in Baker-street by the whole amiable
family with much respectful cordiality, and was pressed
to repeat his visits as country neighbours should. More
than once did he call, and somehow always at the hour
when Sir George was away at his club, or riding in the
park, or elsewhere engaged. Sir George Gorgon was
very old, very feeble, very much shattered in constitution. Lady Gorgon used to impart her fears to Mr.
Scully every time he called there, and the sympathizing attorney used to console her as best he might. Sir
George's country agent neglected the property-his'lady consulted Mr. Scully concerning it; he knew to a
fraction how large her jointure was; how she was to
have Gorgon Castle for her life; and how, in the event




234       THilE BED'FOID-ROW CONSPIRACY.
of the young baronet's death, (he, too, was a sickly
poor boy,) the chief part of the estates, bought by her
money, would be at her absolute disposal.
"What a pity these odious politics prevent me from
having you for our agent," would Lady Gorgon say;
and indeed Scully thought it was a pity too. Ambitious Scully! what wild notions filled his brain. Hie
used to take leave of Lady Gorgon and ruminate upon
these things; and when he was gone, Sir George and
her ladyship used to laugh.
"If we can but commit him —if we can but make
him vote for Pincher," said the General, " my peerage
is secure. Hawksby and Crampton as good as told
me so."
The point had been urged upon Mr. Scully repeatedly and adroitly. "Is not Pincher a more experienced
man than Macabaw " would Sir George say to his
guest over their wine. Scully allowed it. "Can't you
vote for him on personal grounds, and say so in the
house?"  Scully wished he could,-how he wished he
could I Every time the general coughed, Scully saw
his friend's desperate situation more and more, and
thought how pleasant it would be to be Lord of Gorgon Castle. "Knowing my property," cried Sir George,
"as you do, and with your talents and integrity, what
a comfort it would be could I leave you as guardian to
my boy! But these cursed politics prevent it, my dear
fellow.,Why will you be a Radical?"  And Scully
cursed politics too. "Hang the low-bred rogue," added
Sir George, when William Pitt Scully left the house,
"he will do every thing but promise."
"My dear General," said Lady Gorgon, sidling up




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        235
to him and patting him on his old yellow cheek —" my
dear Georgy, tell me one thing,-are you jealous?"
"Jealous, my dear! and jealous of that fellowpshaw!"
"Well, then, give me leave, and you shall have the
promise to-morrow."
To-morrow arrived. It was a remarkably fine day,
and in the forenoon Mr. Perkins gave his accustomed
knock at Scully's study, which was only separated
from his own sitting-room by a double door. John
had wisely followed his uncle's advice, and was on the
best terms with the honourable member.
"Here are a few sentences," said he, "which I think
may suit your purpose. Great public services —undeniable merit-years of integrity-cause of reform, and
Macabaw for ever!" He put down the paper. It was,
in fact, a speech in favour of Mr. Macabaw.
" Hush," said Scully, rather surlily, for he was
thinking how disagreeable it was to support Macabaw,
and besides, there were clerks in the room, whom the
thoughtless Perkins had not at first perceived. As
soon as that gentleman saw them, " You are busy, I
see," continued he, in a lower tone. "I came to say,
that I must be off duty to-day, for I am  engaged to
take a walk with some ladies of my acquaintance."
So saying, the light-hearted young man placed his hat
unceremoniously on his head, and went off through his
own door, humming a song. He was in such high
spirits, that he did not-even think of closing the doors
of communication, and Scully looked after him with a
sneer.




236      THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
"Ladies, forsooth," thought he; "I know who
they are. This precious girl that he is fooling with, for
one, I suppose."  He was right, Perkins was off on the
wings. of love, to see Miss Lucy; and she, and aunt
Biggs, and uncle Crampton had promised this very day
to come and look at the apartments which Mrs. John
Perkins was to occupy with her happy husband.
"Poor devil," so continued Mr. Scully's meditations,
"it is almost too bad to do him out of his place, but
my Bob wants it, and John's girl has, I hear, seven
thousand pounds. His uncle will get him another place
before all that money is spent;" and herewith Mr. Scully
began conning the speech which Perkins had made for
him.
He had not read it more than six times, —in truth, he
was getting it by heart,-when his head-clerk came to
him from the front room, bearing a card: a footman
had brought it, who said his lady was waiting below.
Lady Gorgon's name was on the card! To seize his
hat and rush down stairs was, with Mr. Scully, the work
of an infinitesimal portion of time.
It was indeed Lady Gorgon, in her Gorgonian
chariot.
"Mr. Scully," said she, popping her head out of
window and smiling in a most engaging way, " I want
to speak to you on something very particular indeed,"
and she held him out her hand. Scully pressed it most
tenderly; he hoped all heads in Bedford-row were at
the windows to see him. "I can't ask you into the
carriage, for you see the governess is with me, and I
want to talk secrets to you."
"Shall I go and make a little promenade?" said




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        237
mademoiselle, innocently. And her mistress hated her
for that speech.
"No. Mr. Scully, I am sure, will let me come in
for five minutes."
Mr. Scully was only too happy. My lady descended,
and walked up stairs, leaning on the happy solicitor's
arm, But how should he manage? The front room
was consecrated to clerks; there were clerks, too, as illluck would have it, in his private room. "Perkins is
out for the day," thought Scully; "I will take her into
his room;" and into Perkins's room he took her-ay,
and he shut the double doors after him, too, and trembled as he thought of his own happiness.
" What a charming little study," said Lady Gorgon,
seating herself. And indeed it was very pretty, for Perkins had furnished it beautifully, and laid out a neat
tray with cakes, a cold fowl, and sherry, to entertain
his party withal. " And do you bachelors, always live
so well?" continued she, pointing to the little cold collation.
Mr. Scully looked rather blank when he saw it, and
a dreadful suspicion crossed his soul; but there was no
need to trouble Lady Gorgon with explanations, therefore, at once, and with much presence of mind, he asked
her to partake of his bachelor's fare (she would refuse
Mr. Scully nothing that day). A pretty sight would it
have been for young Perkins to see strangers so uncereinoniously devouring his feast. She drank-Mr. Scully
drank-and so emboldened was he by the draught,
that he actually seated himself by the side of Lady Gorgon, on John Perkins's new sofa!
Her ladyship had of course something to say to




238       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
him. She was a pious woman, and had suddenly conceived a violent wish for building a. chapel-of-ease at
Oldborough, to which she entreated him to subscribe.
She enlarged upon the benefits that the town would
derive from it, spoke of Sunday-schools, sweet spiritual
instruction, and the duty of all well-minded persons to
give aid to the scheme.
"I will subscribe a hundred pounds," said Scully,
at the end of her ladyship's harangue: " would I not
do any thing for you?"
"Thank you, thank you, dear Mr. Scully," said the
enthusiastic woman. (How the "dclear" went burning
through his soul!)  " Ah!" added she, " if you would
but do any thing for me-if you, who are so eminently,
so truly distinguished, in a religious point of view,
would but see the truth in politics, too; and if I could
see your name among those of the true patriot party
in this empire, how blest-oh! how blest, should I be!
Poor Sir George often says he should go to his grave
happy, could he but see you the guardian of his boy,
and I, your old friend, (for we were friends, William,)
how have I wept to think of you, as one of those who
are bringing our monarchy to ruin. Do, do, promise
me this too!"' and she took his hand and pressed it
between hers.
The heart of William Pitt Scully, during this speech,
was thumping up and down with a frightful velocity
and strength. His old love, the agency of the Gorgon
property-the dear widow-five thousand a-year clear
-a thousand delicious hopes rushed madly through
his brain, and almost took away his reason. And there
she sat —she, the loved one, pressing his hand and looking softlv into his eyes.




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        239
Down, down, he plumped on his knees.
"Juliana!" shrieked he, "don't take away your
hand! My love-my only love! —speak but those
blessed words again! Call me William once more, and
do with me what you will."
Juliana cast down her eyes and said, in the very
smallest type,
" William!"
when the door opened, and in walked Mr. Crampton,
leading Mrs. Biggs, who could hardly contain herself
for laughing, and Mr. John Perkins, who was squeezing
the arm of Miss Lucy. They had heard every word of
the two last speeches.
For at the very moment when Lady Gorgon had
stopped at Mr. Scully's door, the foul above-named individuals had issued from Great James-street into Bedford-row. Lucy cried out that it was her aunt's carriage, and they all saw Mr. Scully come out, bare-headed, in the sunshine, and my lady descend, and the pair
go into the house. They meanwhile entered by Mr.
Perkins's own private door, and had been occupied in
examining the delightfll. rooms on the ground floor,
which were to be his dining-room  and library, from
which they ascended a stair to visit the other two
rooms, which were to form Mrs. John Perkins's drawing-room  and bed-room. Now whether it was that
they trod softly, or that the stairs were covered with a
grand new carpet and drugget, as was the case, or that
the party within were too much occupied in themselves
to heed any outward disturbances, I know not; but
Lucy, who was advancing with John, (he was saying




240       THE BEDFORD-ROW  CONSPIRACY.
something about one of the apartments, the rogue!)
-Lucy  suddenly started, and whispered, "There is
somebody in the rooms!" and at that instant began
the speech already reported, " Thank you, thank you,
dear Mr. Scully," &c., &c., which was delivered by
Lady Gorgon, in a full, clear voice; for, to do her ladyship justice, she had not one single grain of love for Mr.
Scully, and, during the delivery of her little oration,
was as cool as the coolest cucumber.
Then began the impassioned rejoinder to which the
four listened on the landing-place; and then the little
"tWilliam," as narrated above; at which juncture Mr.
Crampton thought proper to rattle at the door, and
after a brief pause, to enter with his party.
"William" had had time to bounce off his knees,
and was on a chair at the other end of the room.
"What, Lady Gorgon!" said Mr. Crampton, with
excellent surprise, "how  delighted I am to see you!
Always, I see, employed in works of charity, (the
chapel-of-ease paper was on her knees,) and on such
an occasion, too,-it is really the most wonderful coincidence! My dear madam, here is a silly fellow, a
nephew of mine, who is going to marry a silly girl, a
niece of your own."
"Sir, I-" began Lady Gorgon, rising.
"They heard every word," whispered Mr. Crampton, eagerly. "Come forward, Mr. Perkins, and show
yourself."  Mr. Perlkins made a genteel bow. "Miss
Lucy, please to shake hands with your aunt; and this,
my dear madam, is Mrs. Biggs, of Mecklenburgh-square,
who, if she were not too old, might marry a gentleman
in the treasury, who is your very humble servant; and




THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.        241
with this gallant speech, old Mr. Crampton began helping every body to sherry and cake.
As for William Pitt Scully, he had disappeared,
evaporated, in the most absurd, sneaking way imaginable. Lady Gorgon made good her retreat presently,
with much dignity, her countenance undismayed, and
her face turned resolutely to the foe.    *    *    *
About five days afterwards, that memorable contest took place in the House of Commons, in which the
partisans of Mr. Macabaw were so very nearly getting
him the speakership. On the day that the report of
the debate appeared in the Times, there appeared also
an announcement in the Gazette as follows:"The king has been pleased to appoint John Perkins, Esq., to be Deputy-subcomptroller of his majesty's Tape-office, and Custos of the Sealing-wax department."
Mr. Crampton showed this to his nephew with great
glee, and was chuckling to think how Mr. William Pitt
Scully would be annoyed, who had expected the place,
when Perkins burst out laughing, and said, " By
Heavens! here is my own speech; Scully has spoken
every word of it, he has only put in Mr. Pincher's
name in the place of Mr. Macabaw's."
" He is ours now," responded his uncle, "and I told
you we would have him for nothing. I told you, too,
that you should be married from Sir George Gorgon's,
and here is proof of it."
It was a letter from Lady Gorgon, in which she
said that, "had she known Mr. Perkins to be a nephew
of her friend Mr. Crampton, she never for a moment
would have opposed his marriage with her niece, and
11




242       THE BEDFORD-ROW CONSPIRACY.
she had written that morning to her dear Lucy, begging that the marriage breakfast should take place in
Baker-street."
"It shall be in Mecklenburgh-square," said John
Perkins, stoutly; and in Mecklenburgh-square it was.
William Pitt Scully, Esq., was, as Mr. Crampton
said, hugely annoyed at the loss of the place for his
nephew. He had still, however, his hopes to look forward to, but these were unluckily dashed by the coming in of the Whigs. As for Sir George Gorgon, when
he came to ask about his peerage, Hawksby told him
that they could not afford to lose him in the Commons,
for a liberal member would infallibly fill his place.
And now that the Tories are out and the Whigs
are in, strange to say a Liberal does fill his place. This
Liberal is no other than Sir George Gorgon himself,
who is still longing to be a lord, and his lady is still
devout and intriguing. So that the members for Oldborough have changed sides, and taunt each other with
apostacy, and hate each other cordially. Mr. Crampton
still chuckles over the manner in which he tricked them
both, and talks of those five minutes during which he
stood on the landing-place, and hatched and executed
his "Bedford-row  Conspiracy."




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
MR. and MRS. FITZROY TIMMINS live in Lilliput Street,
that neat little street which runs at right angles with
the Park and Brobdingnag Gardens.  It is a very
genteel neighbourhood, and I need not say they are of a
good family.
Especially MRS. TIMMINS, as her mamma is always
telling MR. T. They are Suffolk people, and distantly
related to the Right Honorable the EARL OF BUNGAY.
Besides his house in Lilliput Street, MR. TIMMINS
has Chambers in Figtree Court, Temple, and goes the
Noithern Circuit.
The other day, when there was a slight difference
about the payment of fees between the great Parliamentary Counsel and the Solicitors, STOKE and
POGERS, of Great George Street, sent the papers of the
Lough Foyle and Lough Corrib Junction Railway to
MR. FITZROY TIMMINS, who was so elated that he instantly purchased a couple of looking-glasses for his
drawing-rooms (the front room is 16 by 12, and the
back a tight but elegant apartment, 10 ft. 6 by 8 ft. 4),
a coral for the baby, two new dresses for MRs. TIMMINS,
and a little rosewood desk, at the Pantechnicon, for
which RosA hlad been long sighing, with crumpled




244       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
legs, emerald-green and gold morocco top, and drawers
all over.
MRS. TIMMINS is a very pretty poetess (her "Lines
to a Faded Tulip," and her "Plaint of Plinlimmon,"
appeared in one of last year's Keepsakes), and FITZROY,
as he impressed a kiss on the snowy forehead of his
bride, pointed out to her, in one of the innumerable
pockets of the desk, an elegant ruby-tipped pen, and six
charming little gilt blank books, marked " My Books,"
which MRS. FITZROY might fill, he said (he is an Oxford man, and very polite), "with the delightful productions of her Muse."  Besides these books, there was
pink paper, paper with crimson edges, lace paper, all
stamped with R. F. T. (ROSA FITZROY TIMMINS), and
the hand and battle-axe, the crest of the TIMMINSES,
and borne at Ascalon by ROALDUS DE TIMMINS, a crusader, who is now buried in the Temple Church, next
to SERJEANT SNOOKS), and yellow, pink, light blue, and
other scented sealing-waxes, at the service of RosA
when she chose to correspond with her friends.
ROSA, you may be sure, jumped with joy at the
sight of this sweet present; called her CHARLES (his
first name is SAMUEL, but they have sunk that) the best
of men! embraced him a great number of times, to the
edification of her buttony little page, who stood at the
landing; and as soon as he was gone to Chambers,
took the new pen and a sweet sheet of paper, and began to compose a poem.
"What shall it be about?" was naturally her first
thought.  "What should be a young mother's first
inspiration?"  Her child lay on the sofa asleep, before
her; and she began in her neatest hand



A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS S.       245
LINES
ON MY SON, BUNGAY DE BRACY GASHLEIGH TYMMYNS, AGED TEN
MONTHS.
Tuesday.
"H Eow beautiful! how beautiful thou seemest,
My boy, my precious one, my rosy babe!
Kind angels hover round thee, as thou dreamest:
Soft lashes hide thy beauteous azure eye which gleamest."
" Gleamest? thine eye which gleamest?  Is that
grammar?" thought ROSA, who had puzzled her little
brains for some time with this absurd question, when
baby woke; then the cook came up to ask about dinner; then MRS. FunDY slipped over from No. 27, (they
are opposite neighbours, and made an acquaintance
through MRS. FUNDY'S macaw): and a thousand things
happened. Finally, there was no rhyme to babe except
TIPPO SAIB (against whom MAJOR GASHLEIGH, ROSA'S
grandfather, had distinguished himself,) and so she
gave up the little poem about her DE BRACY.
Nevertheless, when FITZROY returned from Chambers to take a walk with his wife in the Park, as he
peeped through the rich tapestry hanging which divided
the two drawing-rooms, he found his dear girl still
seated at the desk, and writing, writing away with her
ruby pen as fast as it could scribble.
" What a genius that child has!" he said; " why,
she is a second MRS. NORTON!" and advanced smiling
to peep over her shoulder and see what pretty thing
Ross was composing.
It was not poetry, though, that she was writing, and
FITZ read as follows:




246       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS S.
"Lilliput Street, Tuesday, 22d May.
"MR. and MRS. FITZROY TYMMYNS request the
pleasure of SIR THOMAS and LADY KICKLEBURY'S company at dinner on Wednesday, at 7~ o'clock."
"My dear 1" exclaimed the barrister, pulling a long
face.
" Law, FITZROY!" cried the -beloved of his bosom,
" how you do startle one!"
"Give a dinner party with our means l' said he.
"Ain't you making a fortune, you miser?" Rosi.
said. "Fifteen guineas a day is four thousand five
hundred a year; I've calculated it." And,-so saying,
she rose, and taking hold of his whiskers, (which are as
fine as those of any man of his circuit,) she put her
mouth close up against his, and did something to his
long face, which quite changed the expression of it:
and which the little page heard outside the door.
" Our dining-room won't hold ten," he said.
"We'll only ask twenty, my love; ten are sure
to refuse in this season, when everybody is giving parties. Look, here is the list."
"EARL AND COUNTESS OF BUNGAY, and LADY BARBARA SAINT MARY'S."
"You are dying to get a Lord into the house," TIMMINS said (he has not altered his name in Fig-tree
Court yet, and therefore I am not so affected as to call
him Tymmyns.)  "Law, my dear, they are our cousins, and must be asked," ROSA said.
"Let us put down my sister and TOM CROWDER,
then."




A LITMLE DINNER AT TIMMINS S.       247
"BLANCHE CROWDER is really so very fat, FITZROY,"
his wife said, "and our rooms are so very small."
FiTZ laughed.  "You little rogue," he said, "LADY
BUNGAY weighs two of BLANCHE, even when she's not
in the f —  "
"Fiddlestick!" ROSA cried out. "DOCTOR CROWDER really cannot be admitted; he makes such a noise
eating his soup, that it is really quite disagreeable;"
and she imitated the gurgling noise performed by the
Doctor while inhausting his soup, in such a funny
way, that FITZ saw inviting him was out of the question.
"Besides, we mustn't have too many relations,"
ROSA went on. " Mamma, of course, is coming.  She
doesn't like to be asked in the evening; and she'll
bring her silver bread-basket, and her candlesticks,
which are very rich and handsome."
"And you complain of BLANCHE for being too
stout!" groaned out TIMMINS.
"Well, well, don't be in a pet," said little ROSA.
"The girls won't come to dinner; but will bring their
music afterwards."  And she went on with the list.
"SIR THOMAS and LADY KICKLEBURY, 2. NO saving no: we must ask them, CHARLES. They are rich
people, and any room in their house in Brobdingnag
Gardens would swallow up our humble cot. But to
people in our position in society, they will be glad
enough to come. The City people are glad to mix
with the old families."
" Very good," said FITZ, with a sad face of assent
— and MRs. TIMMINS went on reading her list.
MR. and MRaS. TOPHAM SAWYER, Belgravine Place."




248       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
"MRS. SAWYER hasn't asked you all the season.
She gives herself the airs of an Empress; and when ""One's Member, you know, my dear, one must
have," ROSA replied, with much dignity; as if the presence of the representative of her native place would be
a protection to her dinner; and a note was written and
transported by the page early next morning to the
mansion of the SAWYERS, in Belgravine Place.
The TOPHAM. SAWYERS had just come down to
breakfast. Mrs. T. in her large dust-coloured morning
dress and Madonna front (she looks rather scraggy of
a morning, but I promise you her ringlets and figure
will stun you of an evening); and having read the
note, the following dialogue passed:Mrs. Topham  Sawyer. "Well, upon my word, I
don't know where things will end. MR. SAWYER, the
TIMMINSES have asked us to dinner."
Mr. Topham Sawyer. "Ask us to dinner!  What
d- impudence i"
Mrs. Topham Sawyer. " The most dangerous and
insolent revolutionary principles are abroad, MR. SAWYER; and I shall write and hint as much to these persons."
ZMr. Topham Sawyer. "No, d- it, JOANNA, they
are my constituents, and we must go. Write a civil
note, and say we will come to their party." (He resumes the perusal of the " Times," and Mns. TOPHAM
SAWYER writes)"MY DEAR ROSA,
"We shall have great pleasure in joining
your little party. I do not reply in the third person,




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.      249
as we are old friends, you know, and country neighbouers. I hope your mamma is well: present my kindest remembrances to her, and I Lope we shall see much
MORE of each other in the summer, when we go down
to the Sawpits (for going abroad is out of the question
in these dreadful times).  With a hundred kisses to
your dear little pet,
"Believe me your attached
"J. T. S."
She said Pet, because she did not know whether
RosA's child was a girl or boy: and MRS. TIMMINS was
very much pleased with the kind and gracious nature
of the reply to her invitation.
II.
THE next persons whom little MRS. TIMMINS was bent
upon asking, were MR. and MRS. JOHN ROWDY, of the
firm of STUMPY, ROWDY, AND CO., of Brobdingnag Gardens, of the Prairie, Putney, and of Lombard Street,
City.
MRS. TIMMINS and MRS. ROWDY had been brought
up at the same school together, and there was always a
little rivalry between them, from the day when they
contended for the French prize at school, to last week,
when each had a stall at the Fancy Fair for the benefit
of the Daughters of Decayed Muffin-Men; and when
MRS. TIMMINS danced against MRS. ROWDY in the
Scythe Mazurka at the Polish Ball, headed by MRS.
HUGH SLASHER.  ROWDY took twenty-three pounds
more than TIMMINS in the Muffin transaction (for she
11*




250       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS S.
had possession of a kettle-holder worked by the hands
of R —y-lty, which brought crowds to her stall); but
in the Mazourk Rosa conquered; she has the prettiest
little foot possible (which in a red boot and silver heel
looked so lovely that even the Chinese Ambassador remarked it), whereas MRS. ROWDY's foot is no trifle, as
LoRD CORNBURY acknowledged when it came down on
his Lordship's boot tip as they danced together amongst
the Scythes.
"Those people are ruining themselves," said MRS.
JOIIN ROWDY to her husband, on receiving the pink
note. It was carried round by that rogue of a buttony
page in the evening, and he walked to Brobdingnag
Gardens and in the Park afterwards, with a young lady
who is kitchen-maid at 27, and who is not more than
fourteen years older than little Buttons.
"Those people are ruining themselves," said MRS.
JOHN to her husband.  "ROSA says she has asked the
BUNGAYS."
"BUNGAYS, indeed! TIMMINS was always a tufthunter," said ROWDY, who had been at college with the
barrister, and who, for his own part, has no more objection to a Lord than you or I have; and adding,
" Hang him, what business has he to be giving parties?"
allowed MRS. ROWDY, nevertheless, to accept RosA's
invitation.
"When I go to business to-morrow, I will just have
a loQk at MR. FITZ'S account," MR. ROWDY thought,
"and if it is overdrawn, as it usually is, why"
The announcement of MRS. ROWDY's
brougham here put an end to this disagreeable train of
thought, and the banker and his lady stepped into it to




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS S.      251
join a snug little family party of two-and-twenty, given
by MR. and MRS. SECONDCHOP, at their great house on
the other side of the Park.
"ROWDYs 2, BUNGAYS 3, ourselves and mamma 3,
2 SAWYERS," calculated little ROSA.
"GENERAL GULPIN," ROSA  continued, "eats a
great deal, and is very stuplid, but he looks well at a
table, with his star and ribbon; let us put him down 1"
and she noted down " SIR THOMAS and LADY GULPIN,
2. LORD CASTLENOODLE, 1."
"You will make your party abominably genteel
and stupid," groaned TIMMINS.'Why don't you ask
some of our old friends?  Old MRS. PORTMAN has
asked us twenty times, I am sure, within the last two
years."
" And the last time we went there, there, was peasoup for dinner!" MRS. TIMMINS said, with a look of
ineffable scorn.
"Nobody can have been kinder than the HODGES
have always been to us; and some sort of return we
might make, I think."
"Return, indeed!  A pretty sound it is on the
staircase to hear MR. and MRS. ODGE and the MIss
ODGES, pronounced by BILLITER, who always leaves his
h's out. No, no; see attornies at your Chambers, my
dear-but what could the poor creatures do in our society?"  And so, one by one, TIMMINS'S old friends
were tried and eliminated by MRS. TIMMINS, just as if
she had been an Irish Attorney-General, and they so
many Catholics on MR. MITCHELL'S Jury.
MRS. FITZROY insisted that the party should be of
her very best company. FUNNYMAN, the Great Wit,




252       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS S.
was asked-because of his jokes; and MRS. BUTT, on
whom he practises; and POTTER, who is asked because
everybody else asks him; and MR. RANVILLE RANVILLE
of the Foreign Office, who might give some news of
the Spanish squabble; and BOTHERBY, who has suddenly sprung up into note because he is intimate with
the French Revolution, and visits LEDRU-ROLLIN and
LAMARTINE. And these, with a couple more who are
amis de la maison, made up the twenty, whom MRS.
TIMMINS thought she might safely invite to her little
dinner.
But the deuce of it was, that when the answers to
the invitations came back, everybody accepted! Here
was a pretty quandary. How they were to get twenty
into their dining-room, was a calculation which poor
TIMMINS could not solve at all; and he paced up and
down the little room in dismay.
"Pooh!" said ROSA with a laugh; " your sister
BLANCHE looked very well in one of my dresses, last
year; and you know  how stout she is.  We will
find some means to accommodate them all, depend
upon it."
MRS. JOHN ROWDY'S note to dear ROSA, accepting
the latter's invitation, was a very gracious and kind
one: and MRS. FITZ showed it to her husbaud when
he came back from Chambers. But there was another
note which had arrived for him by this time fiom MR.
RowDY-or rather from the firm: and to the effect that
MR. F. TIMMINS had overdrawn his account X~62 18s. 6d.,
and was requested to pay that sum to his obedient servants, STUMPY, ROWDY, and Co.




A LITTLE DINNER: AT TIMMINS'S.     253
And TIMMINS did not like to tell his wife that the
contending parties in the Lough Neagh and Lough
Corrib Railroad had come to a settlement, and that the
fifteen guineas a day had consequently determined.
"I have had seven days of it, though," he thought;
" and that will be enough to pay for the desk, the dinner, and the glasses, and make all right with STUMPY
AND ROWDY."
III.
THE cards for dinner having been issued, it became the
duty of MRS. TIMMINS to make further arrangements respecting the invitations to the tea-party which was to
follow the more substantial meal.
These arrangements are difficult, as any lady knows
who is in the habit of entertaining her friends. There
arePeople who are offended if you ask them to tea
whilst others have been asked to dinnerPeople who are offended if you ask them to tea at
all; and cry out furiously, " Good Heavens! JANE, my
love, why do these TIMMINSES suppose that I am to leave
my dinner-table to attend their    soiree?"  (the dear
reader may fill up the -     to any strength, according
to his liking)-or, "Upon my word, WILLIAM, my dear,
it is too much to ask us to pay twelve shillings for a
Brougham, and to spend I don't know how much in
gloves, just to make our curtsies in MRS. TIMMINS'S little
drawing-room."  Mas. MOSER made the latter remark
about the TIMMINS affair, while the former was uttered
by MR. GRUMPLEY, Barrister-at-Law, to his lady, in Gloucester-Place.




254       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS S.
That there are people who are offended if you don't
ask them at all, is a point which I suppose nobody will
question. TIMMINS'S earliest friend in life was SIMMINS,
whose wife and family have taken a cottage at Mortlake
for the.season.
" We can't ask them to come out of. the country,"
ROSA said to her FITZROY —(between ourselves, she was
delighted that MRS. SxIiINS was out of the way, and
was as jealous of her as every well-regulated woman
should be of her husband's female friends)-we can't ask
them to come so far for the evening."
"Why no, certainly," said FITZROY, who has himself
no very great opinion of a tea-party; and so the SIMMINSES were cut out of the list.
And what was the consequence? The consequence
was, that SIMMINS and- TIMMINS cut when they meet at
Westminster; that MRS. SIMMINS sent back all the
books which she had borrowed from ROSA, with a withering note of thanks; that ROSA goes about saying that
MRs. SIMMINS squints; that MRs. S., on her side, declares that ROSA is crooked, and behaved shamefully to
CAPTAIN HICRS, in marrying FITZROY over him, though
she was forced to do it by her mother, and prefers the
Captain to her husband to this day. If, in a word, these
two men could be made to fight, I believe their wives
would not be displeased; and the reason of all this
misery, rage, and dissension, lies in a poor little twopenny dinner-party in Lilliput Street.
Well, the guests, both for before and after meat,
having been asked-old MRS. GASHLEIGH, ROSA's mother
-(and, by consequence, FITZROY'S dear mother-in-law,
though I promise you that " dear" is particularly sar



A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS S.     255
castic) —MEs. GASHLEIGH of course was sent for, and
came with Miss ELIZA GASILEIGH, who plays on the
guitar, and EMILY, who limps a little, but plays sweetly
on the concertina. They live close by-trust them for
that. Your mother-in-law is always within hearing,
thank our stars for the attentions of the dear woman.
The GASHLEIGHS, I say, live close by, and came early
on the morning, after RosA's notes had been issued for
the dinner.
When FITZROY, who was in his little study, which
opens into the little dining-room-one of those absurd
little rooms that ought to be called a Gentleman's Pantry, and is scarcely bigger than a shower-bath, or a state
cabin in a ship-when FITZROY heard his mother-inlaw's knock, and her well-known scuffling and chattering
in the passage, in which she squeezed up young BuTTONS, the page, while she put questions to him regarding
baby, and the cook's health, and whether she had taken
what MRS. GASHLEIGH had sent over night, and the
housemaid's health, and whether MR. TIMMINS had gone
to Chambers or not? and when, after this preliminary
chatter, BUTTONS flung open the door, announcing"MRS. GASHLEIGH and the young ladies," FITZROY laid
down his Times newspaper with an expression that had
best not be printed in a Journal which young people
read, and took his hat and walked away.
MRS. GASHLEIGH has never liked him since he left
off calling her Mamma, and kissing her. But he said
he could not stand it any longer- he was hanged if he
would. So he went away to Chambers, leaving the
field clear to RosA, Mamma, and the two dear girls.
-Or to one of them, rather; for before leaving the




256       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
house, he thought he would have a look at little FITZ
ROY up-stairs in the Nursery, and he found the child in
the hands of his maternal aunt ELIZA, who was holding
him and pinching him as if he had been her guitar, I
suppose; so that the little fellow bawled pitifully — and
his father finally quitted the premises.
No sooner was he gone, and although the party was
still a fortnight off, yet the women pounced upon his
little Study, and began to put it in order. Some of his
papers they pushed up over the bookcase, some they
put behind the Encyclopoedia, some they crammed into
the drawers, where MRS. GASHLEIGH found three cigars,
which she pocketed, and some letters, over which she
cast her eye; and by FITZ's return they had the room
as neat as possible, and the best glass and dessert-service
mustered on the study-table.
It was a very neat and handsome service, as you
may be sure MRS. GASHLEIGH thought, whose rich uncle
had purchased it for the young couple, at SPODE AND
COPELAND'S; but it was only for twelve persons.
It was agreed that it would be, in all respects, cheaper
and better to purchase a dozen more dessert plates; and
with "my silver basket in the centre," MRS. G. said (she
is always bragging about that confounded bread-basket),
" we need not have any extra china dishes, and the table
will look very pretty."
On making a roll-call of the glass, it was calculated
that at least a dozen or so tumblers, four or five dozen
wines, eight water-bottles, and a proper quantity of iceplates, were requisite; and that, as they would always
be useful, it would be best to purchase the articles immediately. FITZ tumbled over the basket containing
them, which stood in the hall, as he came in from Cham



A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.      257
bers, and over the boy who had brought them-and the
little bill.
The women had had a long debate, and something
like a quarrel, it must be owned, over the bill of fare.
MRS. GASHLEIGH, who had lived a great part of her life
in Devonshire, and kept house in great state there, was
famous for making some dishes, without which, she
thought, no dinner could be perfect. When she proposed her mock-turtle, and stewed pigeons, and gooseberry-cream, RosA turned up her nose —a pretty little
nose it was, by the way, and with a natural turn in that
direction.
"Mock-turtle in June, mammamma! she said.
" It was good enough for your grandfather, RosA,"
the mamma replied; " it was good enough for the Lord
High Admiral, when he was at Plymouth; it was good
enough for the first men in the county, and relished by
LORD FORTYSKEWER and LORD ROLLS; SIR LAWRENCE
PORKER ate twice of it after Exeter Races; and I think
it might be good enough for""I will not have it, mamma!" said RosA, with a
stamp of her foot —and MRS. GASHLEIGH knew what
resolution there was in that; once, when she had tried
to physic the baby, there had been a similar fight between them.
So MRS. GASHLEIGH made out a carte, in which the
soup was left with a dash —a melancholy vacuum; and
in which the pigeons were certainly thrust in among the
entrees; but RossA determined they never should make
an entree at all into her dinner-party, but that she would
have the dinner her own way.
When FITz returned, then, and after he had paid the
little bill of ~6 14s. 6d. for the glass, RosA flew to him




258       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS S.
with her sweetest smiles, and the baby in her arms.
And after she had made him remark how the child
grew every day more and more like him, and aftel she
had treated him to a number of compliments and caresses, which it were positively fulsome to exhibit in
public, and after she had soothed him into good humour
by her artless tenderness, she began to speak to him
about some little points which she had at heart.
She pointed out with a sigh how shabby the old
curtains looked since the dear new glasses which her
darling FITZ had given her had been put up in the
drawing-room. Muslin curtains cost nothing, and she
must and would have them.
The muslin curtains were accorded. She and FITZ
went and bought them at SHOOLBRED'S, when you may
be sure she treated herself likewise to a neat, sweet,
pretty half-mourning (for the Court, you know, is in
mourning)-a neat sweet bar~ge, or calimanco, or bombazine, or tiffany, or some such thing; but MADAME CAMILLE
of Regent Street made it up, and ROSA looked like an
angel in it on the night of her little dinner.
" And my sweet," she continued, after the curtains
had been given in, "Mamma and I have been talking
about the dinner. She wants to make it very expensive,
which I cannot allow. I have been thinking of a delightful and economical plan, and you, my sweetest FITZ,
must put it into execution."
"I have cooked a mutton-chop, when I was in Chambers," FITZ said, with a laugh. "Am I to put on a cap
and an apron?"
"No; but you are to go to the Megatherium Club
(where, you wretch, you are always going without my
leave), and you are to beg MONSIEUR MIROBOLANT, your




A LITJLE DINNER AT TIMMINS S.      259
famous cook, to send you one of his best aides-de-camp,
as I know he will, and with his aid we can dress the
dinner and the confectionery at home for almost nothing,
and we can show those purse-proud TOPHAM SAWYERS
and ROWDYS that the humble cottage can furnish forth
an elegant entertainment as well as the gilded halls of
wealth."
FITZ agreed to speak to MONSIEUR MIROBOLANT. If
ROSA had had a fancy for the cook of the Prime Minister, I believe the deluded creature of a husband would
have asked LORD JOHN for the loan of him.
IV.
FITZROY TIMMINS, whose taste for wine is remarkable
for so young a man, is a member of the Committee of
the Megatherium  Club, and the great MIROBOLANT,
good-natured as all great men are, was only too happy
to oblige him. A young friend and proteg~ of his, ol
considerable merit, M. CAVALCADOUR, happened to be
disengaged through the lamented death of LORD
HAUNCHER, with whom young CAVALCADOUR had
made his debuit as an artist. He had nothing to refuse
to his master, MIROBOLANT, and would impress himself
to be useful to a gourme so distinguished as MONSIEUR
TIMMINS. FITZ went away as pleased as Punch with
this encomium of the great MIROBOLANT, and was one
of those who voted against the decreasing of MIROBOLANT'S salary, when the measure was proposed by MR.
PARINGS, COLONEL CLOSE, and the Screw party in the
Committee of the Club.
Faithful to the promise of his great master, the




260       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
youthful CAVALCADOUR called in Lilliput Street the
next day. A rich crimson velvet waistcoat, with buttons of blue glass and gold, a variegated blue satin
stock, over which a graceful mosaic chain hung in glittering folds, a white hat worn on one side of his long
curling ringlets, redolent with the most delightful hair
oil-one of those white hats which looks as if it had
been just skinned-and a pair of gloves not exactly of
the colour of beurrefrais, but of beurre that has been
up the chimney, with a natty cane with a gilt knob,
completed the upper part, at any rate, of the costume
of the young fellow whom the page introduced to MRS.
TIMMINS.
Her mamma and she had been just having a dispute about the gooseberry cream when CAVALCADOUR
arrived. His presence silenced MRS. GASHLEIGH; and
ROSA, in carrying on a conversation with him in the
French language, which she had acquired perfectly in
an elegant finishing establishment in Kensington
Square, had a great advantage over her mother, who
could only pursue the dialogue with very much difficulty, eyeing one or other interlocutor with an alarmed
and suspicious look, and gasping out " We " whenever
she thought a proper opportunity arose for the use of
that affirmative.
" I have two leetl menus weez me," said CAVALCADOUR to MRS. GASHLEIGH.
"Minews-yes O indeed," answered the lady.
"Two little cartes."
" O two carts 1 O we," she said-" coming, I suppose;" and she looked out of the window to see if they
were there.




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.               261
CAVALCADOUR smiled; he produced from  a pocketbook a pink paper and a blue paper, on which he had
written two bills of fare, the last two which he had composed for the lamented HAUNCaER, and he handed these
over to MRS. FITZROY.
The poor little woman was dreadfully puzzled with
these documents, (she has them in her possession still,)
and began to read from  the pink one as follows:" DINER POUR 16 PERSONNES.
Potage (clair) A la Rigodon.
Do. A la Prince de Tombuctou.
Deux Poissons.
Saumon de Severne,                   Rougets Gratin6s
a la Boadic6e.                      i la C16opitre.
Deux Releves.
Le Chapeau-a-trois-cornes farci A la Robespierre.
Le Tire-botte a l'Odalisque.
Six Entr6es.
Saut6 de Hannetons Ai l'Epinglikre.
Cotelettes A la Megatherium.
Bourrasque de Veau A la Palsambleu.
Laitances de Carpe en goguette A la Reine Pomar6.
Turban de Volaille A l'Arch6vique de Cantorb6ry."
And so on with the entremets, and hors d'oeuvre, and
the rotis, and the relev/es.
"Madame will see that the dinners are quite simple," said M. CAVALCADOUR.
"O quite!" said ROSA, dreadfully puzzled.
"Which would Madame like l"
"Which  would we like, Mamma?" ROSA  asked;
adding, as if after a little thought, "I think, Sir, we
should prefedr the blue one." At which MRS. GASHLEIGH nodded as knowingly as she could; though, pink




262       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
or blue, I defy anybody to know what these cooks mean
by their jargon.
"If you please, Madam, we will go down below
and examine the scene of operations," MONSIEUR CAVALCADOUR said; and so he was marshalled down the
stairs to the kitchen, which he didn't like to name, and
appeared before the Cook in all his splendour.
He cast a rapid glance round the premises, and a
smile of something like contempt lighted up his features. "Will you bring pen and ink, if you please,
and I will write down a few of the articles which will
be necessary for us? We shall require, if you please,
eight more stew-pans, a couple of braising pans, eight
saute pans, six bain-marie pans, a freezing-pot with accessories, and a few more articles of which I will inscribe the names;" and AIR. CAVALCADOUR did so,
dashing down, with the rapidity of genius, a tremendous
list of ironmongery goods, which he handed over to
MRS. TIMMINS. She and her mamma were quite frightened by the awful catalogue.
"I will call three days hence and superintend the
progress of matters; and we will make the stock for the
soup the day before the dinner."
"Don't you think, Sir," here interposed MRS.
GASHLEIGH, "that one soup-a fine rich mock-turtle,
such as I have seen in the best houses in the West of
England, and such as the late LORD FORTYSREWER-"
"You will get what is wanted for the soups, if you
please," MR. CAVALCADOUR continued, not heeding this
interruption, and as bold as a captain on his own quarter-deck; "for the stock of clear soup, you will get a
leg of beef, a leg of veal,, and a ham."




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.      263
"We Munseer," said the cook, dropping a terrified
curtsey. "A leg of beef, a leg of veal, and a ham."
" You can't serve a leg of veal at a party," said
Mas. GASILEIGH; " and a leg of beef is not a company
dish."
"Madam, they are to make the stock of the clear
SOUp," MR. CAVALCADOUR said.
" What?" cried MRs. GASHLEIGH; and the cook
repeated his former expression.
"Never, whilst I am in this house," cried out MRS.
GASHLEIGH indignantly; "never in a Christian English
household; never shall such sinful waste be permitted
by me. If you wish me to dine, ROSA,-you must get a
dinner less expensive. The RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD
FORTYSKEWER could dine, Sir, without these wicked
luxuries, and I presume my daughter's guests can."
"Madame is perfectly at liberty to decide," said M.
CAVALCADOUR. "I came to oblige Madame and my
good friend MIROBOLANT, not myself."
"Thank you, Sir, I think it will be too expensive,"
ROSA stammered in a great flutter; "but I am very
much obliged to you."
" IIn'y a point d' obligation, JMadame," said MONSIEUR ALCIDE CAMILLE CAVALCADOUR in his most superb
manner; and, making a splendid bow to the lady of
the house, was respectfully conducted to the upper regions by little BUTTONS, leaving ROSA frightened, the
cook amazed and silent, and MRS. GASHLEIGH boiling
with indignation against the dresser.
Up to that moment, MRS. BLOWSER, the cook, who
had come out of Devonshire with MRS. GASHLEIGH (of
course that lady garrisoned her daughter's house with




264       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
servants, and expected them to give her information of
everything which took place there); up to that moment, I say, the cook had been quite contented with
that subterraneous station which she occupied in life,
and had a pride in keeping her kitchen neat, bright, and
clean. It was, in her opinion, the comfortablest room
in the house (we all thought so when we came down of
a night to smoke there); and the handsomest kitchen
in Lilliput Street.
But after the visit of CAVALCADOUR, the cook became quite discontented and uneasy in her mind. She
talked in a melancholy manner over the area railings
to the cooks at twenty-three and twenty-five.  She
stepped over the way, and conferred with the cook
there. She made inquiries at the baker's and at other
places about the kitchens in the great houses in Brobdingnag Gardens, and how many spits, bangmarry pans,
and stoo pans they had. She thought she could not
do with an occasional help, but must have a kitchenmaid. And she was often discovered by a gentleman
of the police force, who was, I believe, her cousin, and
occasionally visited her when MRS. GASHLEIGH was not
in the house or spying it; she was discovered, seated
with Mrs. Rundell in her lap, its leaves bespattered
with her tears. " My Pease be gone, Pelisse," she said,
"zins I zaw that ther Franchman:" and it was all the
faithful fellow could do to console her.
"-  the dinner," said TIMMINS, in a rage at last:
"having it cooked in the house is out of the question:
the bother of it: and the row your mother makes are
enough to drive one mad. It won't happen again, I
can promise you, RosA —order it at FUBSBY's at once.




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.      265
You can have everything from FUBSBY's —from footmen
to saltspoons. Let's go and order it at FUBSBY'S."
"Darling, if you don't mind the expense, and it will be
any relief to you, let us do as you wish," ROSA said;
and she put on her bonnet, and they went off to the
grand cook and confectioner of the Brobdingnag
quarter.
V.
ON the arm of her FITZROY, ROSA went off to
FVuBBY'S, that magnificent shop at the corner of Parliament Place and Alycompayne Square, —a shop into
which the rogue had often cast a glance of approbation as he passed; for there are not only the most wonderful and delicious cakes and confections in the window, but at the counter there are almost sure to be
three or four of the prettiest women in the whole of
this world, with little darling caps of the last French
make, with beautiful wavy hair, and the neatest possible
waists and aprons.
Yes, there they sit; and others, perhaps, besides
FITZ have cast a sheep's eye through those enormous
plate-glass window panes. I suppose it is the fact of
perpetually living amongst such a quantity of good
things that makes those young ladies so beautiful.
They come into the place, let us say, like ordinary people, and gradually grow handsomer and handsomer, until
they blow out into the perfect angels you see. It can't
be otherwise: if you and I, my dear fellow, were to
have a course of that place, we should become beauti12




266        A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
ful too. They live in an atmosphere of the most deli.cious pine-apples, blancmanges, creams, (some whipt,
and some so good that of course they don't want whipping,) jellies, tipsy-cakes, cherry-brandy-one hundred
thousand sweet, and lovely things. Look at the preserved fruits, look at the golden ginger, the outspreading ananas, the darling little rogues of China oranges,
ranged in the gleaming crystal cylinders..on Dieu! 
Look at the strawberries in the leaves. Each of them
is as large nearly as a lady's reticule, and looks as if it
had been brought up in, a nursery to itself.  One of
those strawberries is a meal for those young ladies behind the counter; they nibble off a little from the side,
and if they are -very hungry, which can scarcely ever
happen, they are allowed to go to the crystal canisters
and take out a rout-cake or macaroon.  In the evening
they sit and tell each other little riddles out of the bonbons; and when they wish to' amuse themselves, they
read the most delightful remarks, in the French language, about LOVE, and CUPID, and Beauty, before they
place them inside the crackers. They always are writing down good things into MR. FUBsnY'S ledgers. It
must be a perfect feast to read them. Talk of the
Garden of Eden! I believe it was nothing to MR. FUBsBY'S house; and. I have no doubt that after those young
ladies have been there a certain time, they get to such
a pitch of loveliness at last, that they become complete
angels, with; wings sprouting out of their lovely shoulders, when (after: giving just a preparatory balance or
two) they fly up to the counter and perch there for a
minute, hop.cdown again, and affectionately kiss the
other young ladies, and say "Good bye, dears, we shall




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.        261
meet again la haut," and then with a whirr of their deliciously scented wings, away they fly for good, whisking over the trees of Brobdingnag Square, and up into
the sky, as the policeman touches his hat.
It is up there that they invent the legends for the
crackers, and the wonderful riddles and remarks on the
bon-bons.  No mortal, I am sure, could write them.
I never saw a man in such a state as FITZROY TIMMINS in the presence of those ravishing houris. MRS.
FITZ having explained that they required a dinner for
twenty persons, the young ladies asked what MR. and
MRS. FITZ would like, and named a thousand things,
each better than the other, to all of which FITZ instantly said yes. The wretch was in such a state of infatuation that I believe if that lady had proposed to
him  a fiicaseed elephant, or a boa-constrictor in jelly,
he would have said, "Oh yes, certainly; put it down."
That Peri wrote down in her album a list of things
which it would make your mouth water to listen to.
But she took it all quite calmly. Heaven bless you!
They don't care about things that are no delicacies to
them! But whatever she chose to write down, FITZROY let her.
After the dinner and dessert were ordered (at FUBsBY's they furnish everything; dinner and dessert, plate
and china, servants in your own livery, and if you
please, guests of title too), the married couple retreated
from that shop of wonders; ROSA delighted that the
trouble of the; dinner was all off their hands, but she
was afraid it would be rather expensive.
"Nothing can be too expensive which pleases you,
dear," FITZ said.




268       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
" By the way, one of those young women was
rather good-looking," ROSA remarked; "the one in the
cap with the blue ribbons." (And she cast about the
shape of the cap in her mind, and determined to have
exactly such another.)
"Think so?  I didn't observe," said the miserable
hypocrite by her side; and when he had seen Rosa
home, he went back, like an infamous fiend, to order
something else which he had forgotten, he said, at FuBsBY'S. Get out of that Paradise, you cowardly, creeping, vile serpent, you!
Until the day of the dinner, the infatuated fop was
always going to FUBSBY'S. He was remarked there.
He used to go before he went to Chambers in the
morning, and sometimes on his return from the Temple; but the morning was the time which he preferred;
and one day, when he went on one of his eternal pretexts, and was chattering and flirting at the counter, a
lady who had been reading yesterday's paper and eating a half-penny bun for an hour in the back shop (if
that paradise may be called a shop)-a lady stepped
forward, laid down the Morning Herald, and confronted him.
That lady was MRS. GASHLEIGH. From that day
the miserable FITZROY was in her power; and she resumed a sway over his house, to shake off which had
been the object of his life, and the result of many battles. And for a mere freak-(for, on going into FuBsBY'S a week afterwards he found the Peris drinking tea
out of blue cups, and eating stale bread and butter,
when his absurd passion instantly vanished)-I say,
for a mere freak, the most intolerable burden of his




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.      269
life was put on his shoulders again-his mother-inlaw.
On the day before the LITTLE DINNER took placeand I promise you we shall come to it in the very next
chapter-a tall and elegant middle-aged gentleman,
who might have passed for an Earl, but that there was
a slight incompleteness about his hands and feet, the
former being uncommonly red, and the latter large and
irregular, was introduced to MRS. TIMMINS by the page,
who announced him as MR. TRUNCHEON.
"I'm  TRUNCHEON, Ma'am," he said, with a low
bow.
"Indeed!" said RosA.
"About the dinner, M'm, from  FUBSBY's, M'm.
As you have no butler, M'm, I presume you will wish
me to act as sich. I shall bring two persons as haids
to-morrow; both answers to the name of John. I'd best,
if you please, inspect the primisis, and will think you
to allow your young man to show me the pantry and
kitching."
TRUNCHEON spoke in a low voice, and with the
deepest, and most respectful melancholy. There is not
much expression in his eyes, but from what there is,
you would fancy that he was oppressed by a secret sorrow. ROSA trembled as she surveyed this gentleman's
size, his splendid appearance, and gravity. "I am
sure," she said, "I never shall dare to ask him to hand
a glass of water." Even MRS. GASHLEIGH, when she
came on the morning of the actual dinner-party, to
superintend matters, was cowed, and retreated from the
kitchen before the calm majesty of TRUNCHEON.
And yet that great man was, like all the truly
great-affable.




270       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
He put aside his coat and waistcoat (both of evening cut, and looking prematurely splendid as he walked
the streets in noon-day), and did not disdain to rub the
glasses and polish the decanters, and to show young
BUTTONS the proper mode of preparing these articles for
a dinner. And while he operated, the maids, and
BUTTONS, and Cook, when she could-and what had
she but the vegetables to boil - crowded round
him, and listened with wonder as he talked of the
great families as he had lived with. That man, as they
saw him there before them, had been cab-boy to LORD
TANTALLAN, Valet to the EARL of BAREACRES, and
Groom of the Chambers to the DUCHESS DOWAGER
OF FITZBATTLEAXE. O, it was delightful to hear MR.
TRUNCHEON I
VI.
ON the great, momentous, stupendous day of the
dinner, my beloved female reader may imagine that
FITZROY TIMMINS was sent about his business at an
early hour in the morning, while the women began to
make preparations to receive their guests. " There will
be no need of your going to FUBSBY'S," MRS. GASHLEIGH
said to him, with a look that drove- him out of doors.
"Every thing that we require has been prdered there i
You will please to be back here at 6 o'clock, and not
sooner: and I presume you will acquiesce in my arrangements about the wine."
" O yes, mamma," said the prostrate son-in-law.
"In so large a party-a party beyond some folks'




A LITT'LE DINNER AT TIMMINS' S. 2]        1
means-expensive wines are absusrd.  The light Sherry
at 26s., the Champagne at 42s.; and you are not to
go beyond 36s. for the Claret and Port after clinner.
Mind, coffee will be served; and you come up stairs
after two rounds of the Claret,"
"Of course, of course," acquiesced the wretch  aid
hurried out of the house to his Chambers, and to discharge the commissions with which the womlankind had
intrusted hi.1
As for MiRso GASILEIGHI, yOU might have heard 11er
bawling over the house thle whole day long.  That admirable woman was every where  ill the kitchen, until
the arrival of TRUNCHEON, before whom she would. not
retreat without a battle; on the stairs; il FITZROY'S
dressingzroo.m   and in  FITZROY minor's nursery, to
whom she gave a dose of her own composition, while
the nurse was sent out on a pretext to make purchases
of garnish'for the dishes to be served for the Little
Dinnero  Garnish for the dishes!  As if the. folEs at
FuBsBy's could not garnish dishes better than GASIH
LEIGH, with her stupid old-world devices of laurel leaves,
parsley, and cut turnnips!  Why, there was not a dish
ser ved that day thaat was not covered over with skewers,
on which troufies, crayfish, mushrooms, and forced-meat
were impaled~. WThen old GASHTEICII vwent down w'ith
her barbarian buniches of holly and greens to stick about
the mneats, even tlhe cook saw their incongruity, and, at
TRuNCHEON o     orders, flung the whole shrubbery into the
dust-house, where, while poking about the premises, you
may be sure [MRs C- saw it,
Every candle which was to be burned that; night
(including the tallow candle, which she said was a good




272       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
enough bed-light for FITZROY) she stuck into the candlesticks with her own hands, giving her own highshouldered plated candlesticks of the year 1798 the
place of honour. She upset all poor RosA's floral arrangements, turning the nosegays from one vase into
the other without any pity, and was never tired of beating, and pushing, and patting, and wapping the curtain and sofa draperies into shape in the little drawingroom.
In FITZ'S own apartments she revelled with peculiar
pleasure. It has been described how she had sacked
his Study and pushed away his papers, some of which,
including three cigars, and the commencement of an
article for the Law.Magazine, "Lives of the Sheriffs
Officers," he has never been able to find to this day.
Mamma now went into the little room in the back
regions, which is FITZ'S dressing-room, (and was destined to be a cloak-room,) and here she rummaged to
her heart's delight.
In an incredibly short space of time she examined
all his outlying pockets, drawers, and letters; she inspected his socks and handkerchiefs in the top drawers;
and on the dressing-table, his razors, shaving-strop, and
hair-oil. She carried off his silver-topped scent-bottle
out of his dressing-case, and a half-dozen of his favourite
pills (which FITZ possesses in common with every wellregulated man), and probably administered them to her
own family. His boots, glossy pumps, and slippers, she
pushed into the shower-bath, where the poor fellow
stepped into them the next morning, in the midst of a
pool in which they were lying.  The baby was found
sucking his boot-hooks the next day in the nursery;




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.      273
and as for the bottle of varnish for his shoes, (which he
generally paints upon the trees himself, having a pretty
taste in that way,) it could never be found to the present
hour; but it was remarked that the young MASTER
GASHLEIGHS, when they came home for the holidays,
always wore lacquered highlows; and the reader may
draw his conclusions from that fact.: In the course of the day all the servants gave MRS.
TIMMINS warning.
The cook said she coodn't abear it no longer, aving
Mrs. G. always about her kitching, with her fingers in
all the saucepans.  Mrs. G. had got her the place, but
she preferred one as Mrs. G. didn't get for her.
The nurse said she was come to nuss MASTER FITZROY, and knew her duty; his grandmamma wasn't his
nuss, and was always aggrawating her.-Missus must
shoot herself elsewhere.
The housemaid gave utterance to the same sentiments in language more violent.
Little BUTTONS bounced up to his mistress, said he
was butler of the family, Mrs. G.- was always poking
about his pantry, and dam if he'd stand it.
At every moment RoSA grew more and more bewildered. The baby howled a great deal during the
day. His large china Christening-bowl was cracked by
MRS. GASHLEIGH altering the flowers in it, and pretending to be very cool, whilst her hands shook with rage.
" Pray go on, Mamma," Rosa said with tears in her
eyes. "Should you like to break the Chandelier l"
"Ungrateful, unnatural child!" bellowed the other;
"only that I know you couldn't do without me, I'd leave
the house this minute."
12*




274       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
" As you wish," said ROSA; but MRS. G. didn't wish:
and in this juncture TRUNCHEON arrived.
That officer surveyed the dining-room, laid the cloth
there with admirable precision and neatness; ranged the
plate on the sideboard with graceful accuracy, but objected to that old thing in the centre, as he called MRS.
GASHLEIGH'S silver basket, as cumbrous and useless for
the table, where they would want all the room they
could get.
Order was not restored to the house, nor, indeed,
any decent progress made, until this great man came::
but where there was a revolt before, and a general disposition to strike work and to yell out defiance against
MRS. GASHLEIGH, who was sitting bewildered and furious in the drawing-room-where there was before commotion, at the appearance of the master-spirit, all was
peace and unanimity: the cook -vent back to her pans,
the housemaid busied herself with the china and glass,
cleaning some articles and breaking others, BUTTONS
sprang up and down the stairs, obedient to the orders
of his chief, and all things went well and in their
season.
At six, the man with the wine came from BINNEY
AND LATHAM'S. At a quarter-past six, TIMMINS himself arrived.
At half-past six, he might have been heard shouting
out for his varnished boots-but we know where those
had been hidden-and for his dressing things; but MRS.
GASHLEIGH had put them away.
As in his vain inquiries for these articles he stood
shouting, "Nurse! BUTTONS! ROSA, my dear!" and
the most fearfiul execrations up and down the stairs, MR.
TRUNCHEON came out on him.




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.       275
"Igscuse me, Sir," says he, "but it's impawsable.
We can't dine twenty at that table-not if you set'em
out awinder, we can't."
"What's to be done?" asked FITZROY, in an agony;
"they've all said they'd come."
" Can't do it," said the other; " with two top and
bottom-and your table is as narrow as a bench-we
can't hold more than heighteen, and then each person's
helbows will be into his neighbour's cheer."
"ROSA! MRS. GASHLEIGII!" cried out TIMMINS,
"' come down and speak to this gentl- this-"
" TRUNCHEON, Sir,' said the man.
The women descended from the drawing-room.
"Look and see, ladies," he said, inducting them into
the dining-room; "there's the room, there's the table laid
for heighteen, and I defy you to squeege in more."
"One person in a party always fails," said MRS.
GASHLEIGI, getting alarmed.
" That's nineteen," MR. TRUNCHEON remarked; "we
must knock another hoff, mamn;" and he looked her
hard in the face.
MRs. GASHLEIGH was very red and nervous, and
paced, or rather squeezed round the table (it was as
much as she could do)-the chairs could not be put
any closer than they were. It was impossible, unless
the convive sat as a centre-piece in the middle, to put
another guest at that table.
"Look at that lady movin round, Sir. You see
now the difficklty; if my men wasn't thinner, they
couldn't hoperate at all," MR. TRUNCHEON observed,
who seemed to have a spite to MRS. GASHLEIGH.
"What is to be done?" she said, with purple
accents.




276       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
"My dearerst Mamma," ROSA cried out, "you
must stop at home-how sorry I am 1" And she shot
one glance at FITZROY, who shot another at the great
TRUNCHEON, who held down his eyes. "We could
manage with heighteen," he said mildly.
MRS. GASHLEIGH gave a hideous laugh.
-           *       *       *        *
She went away. At eight o'clock she was pacing
at the corner of the street, and actually saw the com
pany arrive. Ilrst came the TOPHAM SAWYERS in their
light blue carriage, with the white hammer-cloth, and
blue and white ribbons-their footmen drove the house
down with the knocking.
Then followed the ponderous and snuff-coloured vehicle, with faded gilded wheels and brass Earl's coronets all over it, the conveyance of the House of BuNGAY. The COUNTESS OF BUNGAY and daughter stepped
out of the carriage. The fourteenth EARL OF BUNGAY
couldn't come.
SIR THOMAS and LADY GULPIN'S fly made its appearance, from which issued the General with his star,
and LADY GULPIN in yellow satin. The ROWDY'S
Brougham followed next; after which MRS. BUTT'S
handsome equipage drove up.
The two friends of the house, young gentlemen from
the Temple, now arrived in cab No. 9996. We tossed
uap, in fact, which should pay the fare.
MR. RANVILLE RANVILLE walked, and was dusting
his boots as the Templars drove up. LORD CASTLENODDY came-out of a twopenny omnibus. FUNNYMAN,
the wag, came last, whirling up rapidly in a Hansom,




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.      277
just as MRS. GASHLEIGH, with rage in her heart, was
counting that two people had failed, and that there were
only seventeen after all.
MR. TRUNCHEON passed our names to MR. BILLITER,
who bawled them out on the stairs. ROSA was smiling
in a pink dress, and looking as fresh as an angel, and
received her company with that grace which has always
characterized her.
The moment of THE DINNER arrived, old LADY
BUNGAY scuffled off on the arm of FITZROY, while the
rear was brought up by RosA and LORD CASTLEMOULDY,
of Ballyshanvanvoght Castle, Co. Tipperary. Some
fellows who had the luck, took down ladies to dinner.
I was not sorry to be out of the way of MRS. ROWDY,
with her dandyfied airs, or of that high and mighty
County Princess, MRS. TOPHAM SAWYER.
VII.
OF course it does not become the present writer,
who has partaken of the best entertainment which his
friends could supply, to make fun of their (somewhat
ostentatious, as it must be confessed) hospitality. If
they gave a dinner beyond their means, it is no business of mine. I hate a man who goes and eats a
friend's meat, and then blabs the secrets of the mahogany. Such a man deserves never to be asked to
dinner again; and, though at the close of a London
season that seems no great loss, and you sicken of a
white-bait as you would of a whale-yet we must al



278       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
ways remember that there's another season coming, and
hold our tongues for the present.
As for describing, then, the mere victuals on TIMMINS'S table, that would be absurd. Everybody  (I
mean of the genteel world, of course, of which I make
no doubt the reader is a polite ornament) —everybody
has the same everything in London. You see the
same coats, the same dinnmrs, the same boiled fowls
and mutton, the same cutlets, fish; and cucumbers, the
same lumps of Wenham Lake ice, &c.- The waiters,
with white neck-cloths, are as like each other everywhere as the peas which they hand round with the
ducks of the second course. Can't any one invent anything new?
The only difference between TIMMINS's dinner and
his neighbour's was, that he had hired, as we have said,
the greater part of the plate, and that his cowardly
conscience magnified faults and disasters of which no
one else probably took heed.
But ROSA thought, from the supercilious air with
which MRS. TOPHAM SAWYER was eyeing the plate and
other arrangements, that she was remarking the difference of the ciphers on the forks and- spoons-(which
had, in fact, been borrowed fiom every one of FITZROY'S
friends-I know, for instance, that he had my six,
among others, and only returned five, along with a
battered, old, black-pronged, plated abomination, which
I have no doubt belongs to MRS. GASHLEIGH, whom I
hereby request to send back mine in exchange)-their
guilty consciences, I say, made them fancy that every
one was spying out their domestic deficiencies; whereas, it is probable that nobody present thought of their




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.      279
failings at all. People never do; they never see holes
in their neighbours' coats-they are too indolent, simple, and charitable.
Some things, however, one could not help remarking; for instance, though FITZ is my closest friend, yet,
could I avoid seeing and being amused by his perplexity
and his dismal efforts to be facetious? His eye wandered all round the little room with quick uneasy glances, very different from those frank and jovial looks
with which he is accustomed to welcome you to a leg
of mutton; and RosA, from the other end of the table,
and over the flowers, entree dishes, and wine-coolers,
telegraphed him with signals of corresponding alarm.
Poor devils! why did they ever go beyond that leg of
mutton 8
FFUNNYMAN was not brilliant in conversation, scarcely opening his miouth, except for the purposes of feasting. The fact is our friend TOM DAWSON was at table,
who knew all his stories, and in his presence the great
wag is always silent and uneasy.
FITZ has a very pretty wit of his own, and a good
reputation on Circuit; but he is timid before great people. And indeed the presence of that awful LADY
BUNGAY on his right hand, was enough to damp him.
She was in Court-mourning (for the late PRINCE OF
SCHLIPPEN-SCHLOPPEN). She had on a large black funereal turban and appurtenances, and a vast breast-plate
of twinkling, twiddling, black bugles. No wonder a
man could not be gay in talking to her.
MRs. ROWDY and MRS. TOPHAM SAWYER love each
other as women do who have the same receiving nights,
and ask the same society; they were only separated by




280       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.
RANVILLE RANVILLE, who tries to be well with both:
and they talked at each other across him.
TOPHAM and RowDY growled out a conversation
about Rum, Ireland, and the Navigation Laws, quite
unfit for print.  SAWYER never speaks three words
without mentioning the House and the Speaker.
The Irish Peer said nothing (which was a comfort);
but he ate and drank of everything which came in his
way; and cut his usual absurd figure in dyed whiskers
and a yellow under-waistcoat.:GENERAL GULPIN sported his star, and looked fat
and florid, but melancholy. His wife ordered away his
dinner, just like honest SANCHO's physician at Bara
taria.
BOTIIERBY'S stories about LAMARTINE are as old as
the hills, since the barricades of last month; and he
could not get in a word or cut the slightest figure.
And as for TOM DAWSON, he was carrying on an un
dertoned small talk with LADY BARBARA ST. MARY'S,
so that there was not much conversation worth record
going on within the dining-room..Outside, it was different. Those houses in Lilliput
Street are so uncommonly compact, that you can hear
everything which takes: place all over the tenement;
and so,
In the awful pauses of the banquet, and the halldoor being furthermore open, we had the benefit of
hearing
The cook, and the occasional cook, below stairs, exchanging rapid phrases regarding the dinner;
The smash of the soup-tureen, and swift descent of
the kitchen-maid and soup-ladle down the stairs to the




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS S.      281
lower regions. This accident created a laugh, and
rather amused FITZROY and the company, and caused
FUNNYMAN to say, bowing to ROSA, that she was mistress of herself, though China fall. But she did not
heed him, for at that moment another noise commenced, namely, that of
The baby in the upper rooms, who commenced a
series of piercing yells, which, though stopped by the
sudden clapping to of the nursery-door, were only more
dreadful to the mother when suppressed. She would
have given a guinea to go upstairs and have done with
the whole entertainment.
A thundering knock came at the door very early
after the dessert, and the poor soul took a speedy opportunity of summoning the ladies to depart, though
you may be sure it was only old MRS. GASHILEIGH, who
had come with her daughters-of course the first person to come. I saw her red gown whisking up the
stairs, which were covered with plates and dishes, over
which she trampled.
Instead of having any quiet after the retreat of the
ladies, the house was kept in a rattle, and the glasses
jingled on the table, as the flymen and coachmen plied
the knocker, and the soiree came in. From my place
I could see everything; the guests as they arrived (I
remarked very few carriages, mostly cabs and flies), and
a little- crowd of blackguard boys and children, who
were formed round the door, and gave ironical cheers
to the folks as they stepped out of their vehicles.
As for the evening party, if a crowd in the dogdays is pleasant, poor MRS. TIMMINS certainly had a
successful soiree. You could hardly move on the stair.




282       A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS S.
MRS. STERNHOLD bl'O ke in the banisters, and nearly fell through. There was such a noise and chatter you could not hear the singing of the Miss GASHLEIGHS, which was no great loss. -LADY BUNGAT could
hardly get to her carriage, being entangled with COLONEL WEDGEWOOD in the passage. An absurd attempt
was made to get up a dance of some kind, but before
MRS. CROWDER, had got round the room; the hanginglamp in the dining-room below- was stove in, and fell
with a crash on the table,mnow prepared for refreshment.
Why, in fact, did the TIMMINSES give that party at
all?  It was quite beyond their means. They have offended a score of their old friends, and pleased none of
their acquaintances. So angry were many who were
not asked, that poor ROSA says she must now give a
couple more parties and take in those not previously invited. And I know for a fact that FUBSBY's bill is not
yet paid; nor BINNEY and LATHAM'S, the wine-mer-.
chants; that the breakage and hire'of glass and china
cost ever so much money; that every true friend of
TIMMINS has cried out against his absurd extravagance,
and that now, when every one is- going out of town,
FITZ has hardly money to pay his Circuit, much more
to take ROSA to a watering-place, as he wished and
promised.
As for MRS. GASHLEIGH, the only feasible plan of
economy which she can suggest, is that she should
come and live with her: daughter and son-in-law, and
that they should keep house together.: If he agrees to
this, she has a little sum at the banker's, with which she
would not mind easing his present difficulties; and the




A LITTLE DINNER AT TIMMINS'S.      283
poor wretch is so utterly bewildered and crest-fallen
that it is very likely he will become her victim.
The TOPHAM SAWYERS, when they go down into the
country, will represent FITZ as a ruined man and reckless prodigal; his uncle, the attorney, from whom he
has expectations, will most likely withdraw his business,
and adopt some other member of his family-BLANc H
CROWDER for instance, whose husband, the doctor, has
had high words with poor FITZROY already, of course at
the women's instigation-and all these accumulated
miseries fall upon the unfortunate wretch because he
was good-natured, and his wife would have a Little
Dinner.
THE END.








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