would have been at no loss to recognise the indignant Daggles, whose
culinary vocabulary it seemed impossible to exhaust. He followed,
watching every motion of the happy couples. "Well, if this ain't too
bad!--I've a great mind to tell old Pits how them disgusting
saussingers runs after his mince-pies--meets 'em in the Park;
gallivants with them under the trees as if they was ortolans and
beccaficas; bills and coos with 'em as if they was real turtles and
punch _a la Romaine_. How the old cucumber would flare up! Up Regent
Street, along Oxford Street, through the square, up to our own door.
Well, blowed if that ain't a good one! Into the very house they goes;
up stairs to the drawing-room. O Lord! that there should be such
impudence in beefsteaks and ingans! They couldn't be more audacious if
they was Perigord pies."

CHAPTER VII.

Half an hour passed--an hour--and yet the conversation was flowing on
as briskly as ever. Mr Bill Whalley had explained the exact difference
between Norway and Canada timber, greatly to Miss Emily's
satisfaction; and Miss Sophia had again and again expressed her
determination to leave the house the moment Miss Hendy entered it; and
both the young ladies had related the energetic language in which they
had expressed this resolution to their father, and threatened him with
immediate desertion if he didn't cut that horrid old schoolmistress at
once. The same speeches about happiness and simple cottages, with
peace and contentment, had been made a dozen time over by all parties,
when the great clock in the hall--a Dutch pendule, inserted in a
statue of Time--struck three o'clock, and at the same moment a loud
rap was heard at the front door.

"Who can it be?" exclaimed Miss Sophia. "It isn't papa's knock;"--and
hiding her face in the thick hydrangia which filled the drawing-room
window, she gazed down to catch a glimpse of the entrance steps. She
only saw the top of a large wooden case, and the white hat of a
gentleman who rested his hand on the burden, and was giving directions
to the bearers to be very careful how they carried it up stairs.

Mr Whalley started up, as did Mr Sidsby, in no small alarm. "I
wouldn't be found here for half-a-crown," said the former gentleman:
"old father would shake his head into a reg'lar palsy if he knew I was
philandering here, when the Riga brig is unloading at the wharf."

"Let us go into the back drawing-room," suggested one of the young
ladies,