ant recesses,
rendering it now possible to get out at the door, and obtain air on the
landing--where several young fellows are congregated:--there young Lark
was laughing, we knew, at the Rev. Jewel St. Jones, the clerk in orders
at St. Stiffs, doing the _cavalier seul_--for we heard him say something
about early missal, or primitive Christian style,--joking the reverend
gentleman's partner, Miss what's-her-name, the "lamp-post," from No. 4,
Bury Court, St. Mary Axe--that washed-out, faint, fair creature,--she,
that looks as if you could see the back buttons of her dress through
from the front--that lady--well, do you see her?--It is said her mother
keeps her in a dark closet, that she may look like a consumptive
geranium:--however, Mr. Lark said _he_ did not believe it; and, as no
one said they did, the matter ended. The stairs soon become a popular
observatory--several Wall-flowers joining the knot; one of whom mildly
remarks something about three silver-grey silks, in the fore-ground, and
their being "much worn;" which Mr. Lark fully agreed in, as, he said,
they appeared to have been _turned_ several times--a joke, at which the
Wall-flower faintly smiles, for the three silver-greys are his
sisters:--however, nothing daunted, he is at it again, remarking upon
marriage, and people that look married; illustrating his theory by
pointing out the juvenility of an aunt, who he says is a virgin:--Lark
retorting--"_virging_ on fifty!"--a notification that begets much
laughter, making the Wall-flower feel at a discount, and more than ever
desire to say something smart; so, he pitches upon a gentleman with
parenthetical (bowed) legs, observing that Brown has invited his tailor;
moreover, wagering two to one, that if the gentleman, so libelled, were
asked to look at the splashes on the calf of his leg, he would take it
up in front, and examine it in his hand, like a nabob or tailor, used to
sit upon the floor; were he a Christian, he would look at it over his
shoulder:--here the Wall-flower turned for applause, looking over his
own shoulder to illustrate the anecdote--there to discover, Captain de
Camp, the gentleman who introduced "Parenthesis," a staff doctor, from
Woolwich (at least so the Captain said). But here we will leave them to
proceed below, and see how matters progress in the supper-room:--

The chandelier, the treacherous culprit, that would not swing or hang in
chains, is being borne away, clanking along the lower h