The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 171: what you’re looking at

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158 self acquainted with its contents. However, it was finally settled that Mrs. Macaulay sbould pre- pent her hand to Mrs. Sifkin whensoever that lady might make her appearance; and though Mrs. Macaulay outwardly yielded with an excellent grace, she inwardly vowed eternal animosity thenceforth to all present who had conépired te force her into such a degradation. “J don’t think we are all here yet?” said Mrs. ‘Dumpling, in a bland whisper to Mrs. Macaulay; “for I recollect you told me——” _ “No, we are not all here yet,” interrupted the lady thus appealed to, as she drew herself up in a dignified manner. “There’s Mr. Hogben to come—the gentleman, you know, who was for twenty years in the service of the late King and that of her present Majesty, but who suddenly had a fortune left him.” Here it may be as well to inform the reader that Mr. Hogben, whose official services under the Crown were so magnificently paraded, had for twenty years filled the honourable though onerous, bustling, and not very lucrative situation of two- penny postman—but by a sudden windfall inherit- ing a few thousand pounds, he had set up as @ gentleman and wa#*now living on his means. Scarcely had Mrs. Macaulay ceased speaking, when an unmistakable postman’s knock caused the whole company to start, with the exception of Captain Bluff—who was never known to start at anything—not even when his steamer upest a wherry and drowned three people while working its way through the crowded mases of the Pool. “ That's Mr. Hogben!” cried Mre. Macaulay. “Dear me! that a gentleman in his situation should give such a knock! But it’s all the force of habit—and guite natural enough, Lord bless us ? _ “ Amen!” said Mr, Ohubb, the parish clerk, in his deep sepulohral voice; and the utterance of the word was another illustration of that force of habit which Mrs. Macaulay had just been com- menting upon. Mr. Hogben made his appearance—and a very remarkable one it was too. He was a thin, wiry individual—dressed out in a style which even the Miss Chowleys whisperingly declared to be the very pink of fashion; and he glided into the room with a quick, shambling gait, just as postmen are seen to adopt as they shuffle rapidly along the streets, pursuing their professional avocations from one house door to another. “And still we are not complete,” said Mrs. Dumpling to Mrs. Macaulay, when Mr. Hogben, having taken a seat next to Mrs. Chowley, began to pay very marked attention to this dashing young widow of fifty-six. “‘ No—not yet,” responded the hostess to Mra. Dumpling’s remark: then raising her voice for the behoof of all the company, she added, “I am certain of having tho pleasure of introducing to you & young gentleman—ahem !—secretary to his Grace the Duke of Marchmont—and of course the Duke's very particular and intimate friend. Only conceive the pleasure and happiness of living con: atantly with a Duke !” . “As my unole does now,” said the elder Miss Chowley, thus alluding to the relative who served as a ducal butler. ‘. ’ - “And as our ancestor did before him,” added THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. the younger Miss Chowley—thus, with a proud family satisfaction, referring to her great-great- grandfather who was a ducal coachmaz. “Well, I never seed a Dook to my knowledge in all my life,” said Captain Bluff, who spoke in a very hoarse voice,—“ except it was at the figger- head of a ship—and that was a wooden Dook——— old Vellingtan.” The conversation was interrupted by the maid’s announcement of “ Mr. Ashton ;” and Christian made his appearance. “ And where, ny very dear young friend,” cried Mre. Macaulay, when the usual compliments were exchanged, “is that charming sister of your's. What! she couldn’t come? Ob, dear me! I am 90 disappointed! But I suppose—ahem !—~Lady Oc- tavian Meredith couldn’t spare her? Mr. Ash- ton’s sister,” added the worthy woman, looking round upon her gueste, “is the bosom-friend— ahem !—of Lady Octavian Meredith; and I am gure you are all as much disappointed as I am that she cannot come.” Of course there was « universal expression of feeling in accordance with Mrs. Macaulay's re- mark; and Christian, as a Duke’s secretary, and having 4 sister who was bosom friend to a titled lady, at once became the lion of the party. Another knock and ring now produced a greater sensation than any previous summons at the front- door: for every one present felt assured that this must be Mrs. Sifkin. And Mrs. Sifkin it was who made her appearance in the shape of a little vinegar-looking, sharp-eyed, anguler-featured wo- man, with carrotty hair. She was very plainly dressed, and seemed every inch of her the griping, greedy, cheese-paring lodging-house-keeper. Her thin lips were tightly compressed; and she had evidently made up her mind to treat Mrs. Macau- lay with jusé as much civility or reserve, as the case might be, which she should experience at that lady’s hands. There was # solemn silence as the two rivals stood in the presence of each other: but when Mrs. Macaulay extended her hand and bade Mrs. Sifkin consider herself to be quite at home, the guests signified their applause by what would be termed “a sensation” on the part of a public meeting. Then the vinegar aspect of Mrs. Sifkin relaxed; and she smiled in as honied a manner as such @ countenance could possbly smile. Nothing then could exceed the love and friendship, the esteom and affection, which all in a moment sprang up between the late rivals and enemies. Mrs. Macaulay thought it becoming to get up a little cry,—eobbingly vowing that she had always re- garded Mrs. Sifkin with a sisterly love although they were at daggers drawn: to which Mrs. Sifkin replied that as a true Christian she had never failed to remember Mrs. Macaulay in her pravers. This assertion elicited a deep sepulchral “ Amen!" from the parish clerk—a quotation from a Minerva- press novel on the pert of Mr. Wanklin, the circulating-library-keeper—and a subdued expres- sion which sounded very much like “ Humbug !” from the throat of Oaptain Bluff. ‘Things however were now upon a most amiable footing. Mrs. Macaulay rang for tea and coffee, and sat herself down at the table to preside over the festive scene. Plates of thin bread-and-butter, toast, and sced-cake (this being cut up in thirteen very small slices) were placed upon the board: COMMIC DOO Col