When the time for coffee came, however, and for a return to the ladies,

of whom he stood in awe, the young gentleman's agreeable frankness left

him, and he relapsed into his usual surly timidity; contenting himself

by saying yes and no, by scowling at Lady Jane, and by upsetting one

cup of coffee during the evening.

If he did not speak he yawned in a pitiable manner, and his presence

threw a damp upon the modest proceedings of the evening, for Miss

Crawley and Lady Jane at their piquet, and Miss Briggs at her work,

felt that his eyes were wildly fixed on them, and were uneasy under

that maudlin look.

"He seems a very silent, awkward, bashful lad," said Miss Crawley to

Mr. Pitt.

"He is more communicative in men's society than with ladies," Machiavel

dryly replied: perhaps rather disappointed that the port wine had not

made Jim speak more.

He had spent the early part of the next morning in writing home to his

mother a most flourishing account of his reception by Miss Crawley.

But ah! he little knew what evils the day was bringing for him, and how

short his reign of favour was destined to be. A circumstance which Jim

had forgotten--a trivial but fatal circumstance--had taken place at the

Cribb's Arms on the night before he had come to his aunt's house. It

was no other than this--Jim, who was always of a generous disposition,

and when in his cups especially hospitable, had in the course of the

night treated the Tutbury champion and the Rottingdean man, and their

friends, twice or thrice to the refreshment of gin-and-water--so that

no less than eighteen glasses of that fluid at eightpence per glass

were charged in Mr. James Crawley's bill. It was not the amount of

eightpences, but the quantity of gin which told fatally against poor

James's character, when his aunt's butler, Mr. Bowls, went down at his

mistress's request to pay the young gentleman's bill. The landlord,

fearing lest the account should be refused altogether, swore solemnly

that the young gent had consumed personally every farthing's worth of

the liquor: and Bowls paid the bill finally, and showed it on his

return home to Mrs. Firkin, who was shocked at the frightful

prodigality of gin; and took the bill to Miss Briggs as

accountant-general; who thought it her duty to mention the circumstance

to her principal, Miss Crawley.

Had he drunk a dozen bottles of claret, the old spinster could have

pardoned him. Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheridan drank claret. Gentlemen drank

claret. But eighteen glasses of gin consumed among boxers in an

ignoble pot-house--it was an odious crime and not to be pardoned

readily. Everything went against the lad: he came home perfumed from

the stables, whither he had been to pay his dog Towzer a visit--and

whence he was going to take his friend out for an airing, when he met

Miss Crawley and her wheezy Blenheim spaniel, which Towzer would have

eaten up had not the Blenheim fled squealing to the protection of Miss

Briggs, while the atrocious master of the bull-dog stood laughing at

the horrible persecution.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024