dyship in flame-coloured
satin and gorgeous toque and feathers, entering the drawing-room, as
footmen along the stairs shouted melodiously, "Sir George and Lady
Gorgon," you beheld in her company a small withered old gentleman, with
powder and large royal household buttons, who tripped at her elbow as a
little weak-legged colt does at the side of a stout mare.

The little General had been present at about a hundred and twenty
pitched battles on Hounslow Heath and Wormwood Scrubs, but had never
drawn his sword against an enemy. As might be expected, therefore, his
talk and tenue were outrageously military. He had the whole Army List by
heart--that is, as far as the field-officers: all below them he scorned.
A bugle at Gorgon Castle always sounded at breakfast, and dinner: a gun
announced sunset. He clung to his pigtail for many years after the army
had forsaken that ornament, and could never be brought to think much of
the Peninsular men for giving it up. When he spoke of the Duke, he used
to call him "MY LORD WELLINGTON--I RECOLLECT HIM AS CAPTAIN WELLESLEY."
He swore fearfully in conversation, was most regular at church, and
regularly read to his family and domestics the morning and evening
prayer; he bullied his daughters, seemed to bully his wife, who led him
whither she chose; gave grand entertainments, and never asked a friend
by chance; had splendid liveries, and starved his people; and was
as dull, stingy, pompous, insolent, cringing, ill-tempered a little
creature as ever was known.

With such qualities you may fancy that he was generally admired in
society and by his country. So he was: and I never knew a man so
endowed whose way through life was not safe--who had fewer pangs of
conscience--more positive enjoyments--more respect shown to him--more
favours granted to him, than such a one as my friend the General.

Her Ladyship was just suited to him, and they did in reality admire
each other hugely. Previously to her marriage with the baronet, many
love-passages had passed between her and William Pitt Scully, Esquire,
the attorney; and there was especially one story, a propos of certain
syllabubs and Sally-Lunn cakes, which seemed to show that matters had
gone very far. Be this as it may, no sooner did the General (Major
Gorgon he was then) cast an eye on her, than Scully's five years' fabric
of love was instantly dashed to the ground. She cut him pitilessly,
cut Sally Scully, his sister, her dearest friend an