ve, so contrary to
all his experiences. When the flyman's demands had been appeased,
and we had got the poor old gentleman out of his wraps, he turned
out to be a neat, little, prim-looking London lawyer, clean-shaved,
and with an indoor complexion. I daresay Charlie, with his big
frame, sunburnt face, curly beard, and loud hearty voice, seemed to
him like a kind of savage, and he thought he had got among the
Aborigines.

After all, he had written to announce his coming. But he had not
calculated on our never getting our letters unless we sent for them.
He was the very pink of politeness to me, and mourned so much over
putting me to inconvenience that we could only profess our delight
and desire to make him comfortable.

On the whole, it went off very well. I gave him a cup of tea to
warm and occupy him while the upstairs' chimney was coming to its
senses; and then Charles took him upstairs. He reappeared in
precise evening dress, putting us to shame; for Charles had not a
dress-coat big enough for him to get into, and I had forgotten to
secure my black silk before abandoning my room. We could not ask
him to eat in the best kitchen, as was our practice, and he showed
himself rather dismayed at our having only one sitting-room, saying
he had not thought the cottage such a dog-hole, or known that it
would be inhabited by a lady; and then he paid some pretty
compliment on the feminine hand evident in the room. We had laid
the table before he came down, but the waiting was managed by
ourselves, or rather, by Charles, for Mr. Newton's politeness made
him jump up whenever I moved; so that I had to sit still and do the
lady hostess, while my brother changed plates and brought in relays
of the chops from the kitchen. They were a great success. Mr.
Newton eyed them for a moment distrustfully, but Betsey had turned
them out beautifully--all fair and delicate with transparent fat,
and a brown stripe telling of the gridiron. He refused the egg
alternative, and greatly enjoyed them and our Brussels sprouts,
speaking highly of the pleasure of country fare, and apologising
about the good appetising effects of a journey, when Charlie tempted
him with a third chop, the hottest and most perfect of all.

I think we also produced a rhubarb tart, and I know he commended our
prudence in having no wine, and though he refused my brother's ale,
seemed highly satisfied with a tumbler of brandy and water, when I
quitted the gentlem