b has described; we all thought her very
nice-looking. Mr Rubb, do you remember how you would go on talking to
her, till Mr Talbot Green did not like it at all?"

"No, I don't."

"Oh, but you did; and you always do."

Then Miss Colza ceased, having finished that effort. But she made
others from time to time as long as they remained in the dining-room,
and by no means gave up the battle. There are women who can fight
such battles when they have not an inch of ground on which to stand.

After the little dishes there came, of course, a saddle of mutton,
and, equally of course, a pair of boiled fowls. There was also a
tongue; but the a la Russe construction of the dinner was maintained
by keeping the tongue on the sideboard, while the mutton and chickens
were put down to be carved in the ordinary way. The ladies all
partook of the chickens, and the gentlemen all of the mutton. The
arrangement was very tedious, as Dr Slumpy was not as clever with
the wings of the fowls as he perhaps would have been had he not been
defrauded in the matter of the champagne; and then every separate
plate was carried away to the sideboard with reference to the tongue.
Currant jelly had been duly provided, and, if Elizabeth had been
allowed to dispense it, might have been useful. But Grandairs was too
much for the jelly, as he had been for the fish-sauce, and Dr Slumpy
in vain looked up, and sighed, and waited. A man in such a condition
measures the amount of cold which his meat may possibly endure
against the future coming of the potatoes, till he falls utterly
to the ground between two stools. So was it now with Dr Slumpy. He
gave one last sigh as he saw the gravy congeal upon his plate, but,
nevertheless, he had finished the unpalatable food before Grandairs
had arrived to his assistance.

Why tell of the ruin of the maccaroni, of the fine-coloured
pyramids of shaking sweet things which nobody would eat, and by the
non-consumption of which nothing was gained, as they all went back to
the pastrycook's,--or of the ice-puddings flavoured with onions? It
was all misery, wretchedness, and degradation. Grandairs was king,
and Mrs Mackenzie was the lowest of his slaves. And why? Why had she
done this thing? Why had she, who, to give her her due, generally
held her own in her own house pretty firmly,--why had she lowered her
neck and made a wretched thing of herself? She knew that it would be
so when she first suggested to herself the attempt. S