age at this moment was forty-two, and as Mr. Prosper was only
fifty there was no discrepancy in the marriage. He would have been
young-looking for his age, but for an air of ancient dandyism which had
grown upon him. He was somewhat dry, too, and skinny, with high
cheekbones and large dull eyes. But he was clean, and grave, and
orderly,--a man promising well to a lady on the lookout for a husband.
Miss Thoroughbung was fat, fair, and forty to the letter, and she had a
just measure of her own good looks, of which she was not unconscious.
But she was specially conscious of twenty-five thousand pounds, the
possession of which had hitherto stood in the way of her search after a
husband. It was said commonly about Buntingford that she looked too
high, seeing that she was only a Thoroughbung and had no more than
twenty-five thousand pounds.
But Miss Tickle was in the room, and might have been said to be in the
way, were it not that a little temporary relief was felt by Mr. Prosper
to be a comfort. Miss Tickle was at any rate twenty years older than
Miss Thoroughbung, and was of all slaves at the same time the humblest
and the most irritating. She never asked for anything, but was always
painting the picture of her own deserts. "I hope I have the pleasure of
seeing Miss Tickle quite well," said the squire, as soon as he had paid
his first compliments to the lady of his love.
"Thank you, Mr. Prosper, pretty well. My anxiety is all for Matilda."
Matilda had been Matilda to her since she had been a little girl, and
Miss Tickle was not going now to drop the advantage which the old
intimacy gave her.
"I trust there is no cause for it."
"Well, I'm not so sure. She coughed a little last night, and would not
eat her supper. We always do have a little supper. A despatched crab it
was; and when she would not eat it I knew there was something wrong."
"Nonsense! what a fuss you make. Well, Mr. Prosper, have you seen your
nephew yet?"
"No, Miss Thoroughbung; nor do I intend to see him. The young man has
disgraced himself."
"Dear, dear; how sad!"
"Young men do disgrace themselves, I fear, very often," said Miss
Tickle.
"We won't talk about it, if you please, because it is a family affair."
"Oh no," said Miss Thoroughbung.
"At least, not as yet. It may be;--but never mind, I would not wish to be
premature in anything."
"I am always telling Matilda so. She is so impulsive. But as you may
have matters of business, M
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