"Pray," said the daughter, adjusting her ringlets by a little glass
which hung over the tap, "how long has Mr. Mordaunt's lady been dead?"

"Oh! she died just before the squire came to the property," quoth the
mother. "Poor thing! she was so pretty! I am sure I cried for a whole
hour when I heard it! I think it was three years last month when it
happened. Old Mr. Vavasour died about two months afterwards."

"The afflicted husband" (said Mr. Bossolton, who was the victim of a
most fiery Mrs. Boss at home) "went into foreign lands or parts, or,
as it is vulgarly termed, the Continent, immediately after an event or
occurrence so fatal to the cup of his prosperity and the sunshine of his
enjoyment, did he not, Mrs. Merrylack?"

"He did. And you know, Mr. Boss, he only returned about six months ago."

"And of what borough or burgh or town or city is he the member and
representative?" asked Mr. Jeremiah Bossolton, putting another lump of
sugar into his negus. "I have heard, it is true, but my memory is
short; and, in the multitude and multifariousness of my professional
engagements, I am often led into a forgetfulness of matters less
important in their variety, and less--less various in their importance."

"Why," answered Mrs. Merrylack, "somehow or other, I quite forget too;
but it is some distant borough. The gentleman wanted him to stand for
the county, but he would not hear of it; perhaps he did not like the
publicity of the thing, for he is mighty reserved."

"Proud, haughty, arrogant, and assumptious!" said Mr. Bossolton, with a
puff of unusual length.

"Nay, nay," said the daughter (young people are always the first to
defend), "I'm sure he's not proud: he does a mort of good, and has the
sweetest smile possible! I wonder if he'll marry again! He is very young
yet, not above two or three and thirty." (The kind damsel would not have
thought two or three and thirty very young some years ago; but we
grow wonderfully indulgent to the age of other people as we grow older
ourselves!)

"And what an eye he has!" said the landlady. "Well, for my part,--but,
bless me. Here, John, John, John, waiter, husband I mean,--here's a
carriage and four at the door. Lizzy, dear, is my cap right?"

And mother, daughter, and husband all flocked, charged with
simper, courtesy, and bow, to receive their expected guests. With a
disappointment which we who keep not inns can but very imperfectly
conceive, the trio beheld a single per