an with such
severe moralists as Aunt Horsingham or hypocritical Cousin Amelia. So
I drove and shopped and visited with Mrs. Lumley--nay, I was even
permitted as a great favour to dine with her on one or two occasions,
Aunt Deborah only stipulating that there should be no male addition to
the party except Mr. Lumley himself, or, as the lady of the house
termed him, "her old man."

I confess I liked the "old man," and so I think in her own way did his
wife. Why she married him I cannot think, more particularly as he had
not then succeeded to the comfortable fortune they now enjoy: he was
little, old, ugly, decrepit, and an invalid, but he was good nature
and contentment personified. I believe he had great talents--for all
his want of physical beauty he had a fine head--but these talents were
wholly and unsparingly devoted to one pursuit: he was an entomologist.
With a black beetle and a microscope he was happy for the day. Piles
upon piles of manuscripts had he written upon the forms and
classification of the bluebottle fly. He could tell you how many legs
are flourished by the house-spider, and was thoroughly versed in the
anatomy of the common gnat. This pursuit, or science as he called it,
engrossed his whole attention. It was fortunate he had such an
absorbing occupation, inasmuch as his general debility prevented his
entering into any amusement out of doors. His wife and he seemed to
understand each other perfectly.

"My dear," he would say when listening to some escapade that it would
have been scarcely prudent to trust to most husbands' ears, "I never
interfere with your butterflies, and you never trouble yourself about
mine. I must, however, do myself the justice to observe that you get
tired of your insects infinitely the soonest of the two."

He never inquired where she went or what she did, but late or early
always received her with the same quiet welcome, the same sly,
good-humoured smile. I firmly believe that with all her levity,
whatever scandal might say, she was a good wife to him. He trusted her
implicitly; and I think she felt his confidence deserved to be
respected. Such was not the opinion of the world, I am well aware; but
we all know the charitable construction it is so eager to put on a
fair face with a loud laugh and a good set of teeth. Dear me! if he
looked for a lady that had never been _talked about_, Caesar might have
searched London for a wife in vain. Good Mr. Lumley professed a great