ciple that obscurity increases the natural
size of objects and is an element of the sublime, the colonel did not
too accurately define his relations "the Digbies:" he let it be casually
understood that they were the Digbies to be found in Debrett. But if
some indiscreet Vulgarian (a favourite word with both the Pompleys)
asked point-blank if he meant "my Lord Digby," the colonel, with a lofty
air, answered, "The elder branch, sir." No one at Screwstown had ever
seen these Digbies: they lay amidst the Far, the Recondite,--even to the
wife of Colonel Pompley's bosom. Now and then, when the colonel referred
to the lapse of years, and the uncertainty of human affections, he would
say, "When young Digby and I were boys together," and then add with a
sigh, "but we shall never meet again in this world. His family interests
secured him a valuable appointment in a distant part of the British
dominions." Mrs. Pompley was always rather cowed by the Digbies. She
could not be sceptical as to this connection, for the colonel's mother
was certainly a Digby, and the colonel impaled the Digby arms. En
revanche, as the French say, for these marital connections, Mrs. Pompley
had her own favourite affinity, which she specially selected from all
others when she most desired to produce effect; nay, even upon ordinary
occasions the name rose spontaneously to her lips,--the name of the
Honourable Mrs. M'Catchley. Was the fashion of a gown or cap admired,
her cousin, Mrs. M'Catchley, had just sent to her the pattern from
Paris. Was it a question whether the Ministry would stand, Mrs.
M'Catchley was in the secret, but Mrs. Pompley had been requested not to
say. Did it freeze, "My cousin, Mrs. M'Catchley, had written word that
the icebergs at the Pole were supposed to be coming this way." Did the
sun glow with more than usual fervour, Mrs. M'Catchley had informed her
"that it was Sir Henry Halford's decided opinion that it was on account
of the cholera." The good people knew all that was doing at London, at
court, in this world--nay, almost in the other--through the medium of
the Honourable Mrs. M'Catchley. Mrs. M'Catchley was, moreover, the most
elegant of women, the wittiest creature, the dearest. King George the
Fourth had presumed to admire Mrs. M'Catehley; but Mrs. M'Catchley,
though no prude, let him see that she was proof against the corruptions
of a throne. So long had the ears of Mrs. Pompley's friends been filled
with the renown of Mrs. M