that's all.
Isabella, leave go my hand!"

"Mamma, you mustn't do so before company; it's odious!" shrieked Miss B.;
and Mamma quietly let the hand fall, and heaved from her ample bosom a
great large sigh. I felt a liking for that simple woman, and a respect
for Brough too. He couldn't be a bad man, whose wife loved him so.

Dinner was soon announced, and I had the honour of leading in Miss B.,
who looked back rather angrily, I thought, at Captain Fizgig, because
that gentleman had offered his arm to Mrs. Brough. He sat on the right
of Mrs. Brough, and Miss flounced down on the seat next to him, leaving
me and Mr. Tidd to take our places at the opposite side of the table.

At dinner there was turbot and soup first, and boiled turkey afterwards
of course. How is it that at all the great dinners they have this
perpetual boiled turkey? It was real turtle-soup: the first time I had
ever tasted it; and I remarked how Mrs. B., who insisted on helping it,
gave all the green lumps of fat to her husband, and put several slices of
the breast of the bird under the body, until it came to his turn to be
helped.

"I'm a plain man," says John, "and eat a plain dinner. I hate your
kickshaws, though I keep a French cook for those who are not of my way of
thinking. I'm no egotist, look you; I've no prejudices; and Miss there
has her bechamels and fallals according to her taste. Captain, try the
_volly-vong_."

We had plenty of champagne and old madeira with dinner, and great silver
tankards of porter, which those might take who chose. Brough made
especially a boast of drinking beer; and, when the ladies retired, said,
"Gentlemen, Tiggins will give you an unlimited supply of wine: there's no
stinting here;" and then laid himself down in his easy-chair and fell
asleep.

"He always does so," whispered Mr. Tidd to me.

"Get some of that yellow-sealed wine, Tiggins," says the Captain. "That
other claret we had yesterday is loaded, and disagrees with me
infernally!"

I must say I liked the yellow seal much better than Aunt Hoggarty's
Rosolio.

I soon found out what Mr. Tidd was, and what he was longing for.

"Isn't she a glorious creature?" says he to me.

"Who, sir?" says I.

"Miss Belinda, to be sure!" cried Tidd. "Did mortal ever look upon eyes
like hers, or view a more sylph-like figure?"

"She might have a little more flesh, Mr. Tidd," says the Captain, "and a
little less eyebrow. They look vicious, those scow