-_groom_, in a REAL gentleman's family (the distinction I
particularly admired); and that the _lady_, her condescending friend, was
a grocer's daughter! Niobe, at this precise point of the conversation,
bestowed a ghastly grin upon the new allies, and producing from her
reticule a well-soiled and much be-thumbed volume (whether of plays, or a
novel, I could not discern), commenced perusing it with an avidity
apparently unchecked by its disgusting odour, the which powerfully
assailed me. I, too, was allowed by my loquacious widow, now that she had
fallen in with a bird of her own feather, to read in peace for the space
of some three or four miles; but at length my attention was aroused from
my book by the loud voice of Mrs. Baker, who was promulgating to Dame
Chandler the mysterious manner in which she fattened her dogs, by giving
them, twice or thrice a day, a quartern loaf, crumbed, and sopped in
melted fat, or dripping, which saved meat, since the animals liked that
food far better. But at this instant the Telegraph stopped; and the
coachman demanding his fare, since she had reached the place at which she
had desired to be set down, a violent altercation ensued between them
respecting sixpence; and finally the _lady_ just stepped out of the
vehicle in time to save herself from the indignity of being pulled from it
by its infuriated driver.

"A fine _sturren_ (stirring), business-like woman!" exclaimed the widow,
as we again proceeded; "likelies to turn a penny whiles other folks lay a
bed snoring; but mortal wasteful um sure, for one that talks about saving!
Meat indeed she may save; but lauk now, only _consate_ the _grase_ she
gives 'em confounded brutes, and the _taller trade_ so low!"

"And only think," added I, "of the numbers of poor creatures who are
starving, whilst she bestows quartern loaves of fine white bread upon her
dogs!"

"An' has for saving _meat_," cried Niobe (then did she speak for the first
time), "sure am I, my fath--that's to say, the butchers, wouldn't thank
her for her pains."

Here was a discovery! but a greater was at hand; for when the Telegraph
arrived at its destination--the White Horse, Fetter-lane--a livery-servant
met this sentimental, and inordinately proud, and ill-humoured _lady_; and
after delivering a message from her "_new misses_," called a hackney-coach
to convey her to her "new place."

My honest widow hurried to the bar, in order to obtain some _stomachic_
which should en