o a nicety, and I beg to inform you that I
have sunk exactly three degrees lower in the estimation of the resident
gentry since I had the pleasure of seeing you last."

"You _will_ have your joke out," said Midwinter, bitterly. "Well, if I
can't laugh, I can wait."

"My dear fellow, I'm not joking; I really mean what I say. You shall
hear what happened; you shall have a report in full of my first visit.
It will do, I can promise you, as a sample for all the rest. Mind this,
in the first place, I've gone wrong with the best possible intentions.
When I started for these visits, I own I was angry with that old brute
of a lawyer, and I certainly had a notion of carrying things with a high
hand. But it wore off somehow on the road; and the first family I called
on, I went in, as I tell you, with the best possible intentions. Oh,
dear, dear! there was the same spick-and-span reception-room for me to
wait in, with the neat conservatory beyond, which I saw again and again
and again at every other house I went to afterward. There was the same
choice selection of books for me to look at--a religious book, a book
about the Duke of Wellington, a book about sporting, and a book about
nothing in particular, beautifully illustrated with pictures. Down came
papa with his nice white hair, and mamma with her nice lace cap; down
came young mister with the pink face and straw-colored whiskers, and
young miss with the plump cheeks and the large petticoats. Don't suppose
there was the least unfriendliness on my side; I always began with them
in the same way--I insisted on shaking hands all round. That staggered
them to begin with. When I came to the sore subject next--the subject
of the public reception--I give you my word of honor I took the greatest
possible pains with my apologies. It hadn't the slightest effect; they
let my apologies in at one ear and out at the other, and then waited to
hear more. Some men would have been disheartened: I tried another way
with them; I addressed myself to the master of the house, and put
it pleasantly next. 'The fact is,' I said, 'I wanted to escape the
speechifying--my getting up, you know, and telling you to your face
you're the best of men, and I beg to propose your health; and your
getting up and telling me to my face I'm the best of men, and you beg
to thank me; and so on, man after man, praising each other and pestering
each other all round the table.' That's how I put it, in an easy,
light-handed