and the Countess being
very intent on the game, Mr. Stubbs had time for a hasty survey of the
company and apartment before she looked up. It was about one o'clock,
and of course she was still _en deshabille_, with her nightcap on,
a loose _robe de chambre_ of flannel, and a flaming broad-striped
red-and-black Scotch shawl thrown over her shoulders, and
swan's-down-lined slippers on her feet. Mr. Jorrocks had his leather
pantaloons on, with a rich blue and yellow brocade dressing-gown, and
blue morocco slippers to match. His jack-boots, to which he had added
a pair of regimental heel-spurs, were airing before a stove, which
contained the dying embers of a small log. The room was low, and
contained the usual allowance of red figured velvet-cushioned chairs,
with brass nails; the window curtains were red-and-white on rings and
gilded rods; a secretaire stood against one of the walls, and there was
a large mirror above the marble mantelpiece, which supported a clock
surmounted by a flying Cupid, and two vases of artificial flowers
covered with glass, on one of which was placed an elegant bonnet of the
newest and most approved fashion. The floor, of highly polished oak, was
strewed about with playbills, slippers, curl-papers, boxes, cards, dice,
ribbons, dirty handkerchiefs, etc.; and on one side of the deal table
was a plate containing five well-picked mutton-chop bones, and hard by
lay Mr. Jorrocks's mustachios and a dirty small tooth-comb.

Just as the Yorkshireman had got thus far in his survey, the Countess
gave the finishing stroke to the game, and Mr. Jorrocks, jumping up in a
rage, gave his leathers such a slap as sent a cloud of pipe-clay flying
into his face. "Vous avez the devil's own luck"; exclaimed he, repeating
the blow, when, to avoid the cloud, he turned short round, and
encountered the Yorkshireman.

"How now?" roared he at the top of his voice, "who sent for you? Have
you come here to insult me in my own house? I'll lay my soul to an
'oss-shoe, I'll be too many for ye! Where's my sword?"

"Now, my good Mr. Jorrocks," replied the Yorkshireman very mildly,
"pray, don't put yourself into a passion--consider the lady, and don't
let us have any unpleasantness in Madame la Duchesse Benvolio's house,"
making her a very low bow as he spoke, and laying his hand on his heart.

"D--n your displeasancies!" roared Jorrocks, "and that's swearing--a
thing I've never done since my brother Joe fobbed me of my bottom pi