at Mrs. Simmins squints; that Mrs.
S., on her side, declares that Rosa is crooked, and behaved shamefully
to Captain Hicks in marrying Fitzroy over him, though she was forced to
do it by her mother, and prefers the Captain to her husband to this day.
If, in a word, these two men could be made to fight, I believe their
wives would not be displeased; and the reason of all this misery, rage,
and dissension, lies in a poor little twopenny dinner-party in Lilliput
Street.

Well, the guests, both for before and after meat, having been asked,
old Mrs. Gashleigh, Rosa's mother--(and, by consequence, Fitzroy's
DEAR mother-in-law, though I promise you that "dear" is particularly
sarcastic)--Mrs. Gashleigh of course was sent for, and came with Miss
Eliza Gashleigh, who plays on the guitar, and Emily, who limps a little,
but plays sweetly on the concertina. They live close by--trust them for
that. Your mother-in-law is always within hearing, thank our stars for
the attention of the dear women. The Gashleighs, I say, live close by,
and came early on the morning after Rosa's notes had been issued for the
dinner.

When Fitzroy, who was in his little study, which opens into his little
dining-room--one of those absurd little rooms which ought to be called
a gentleman's pantry, and is scarcely bigger than a shower-bath, or a
state cabin in a ship--when Fitzroy heard his mother-in-law's knock,
and her well-known scuffling and chattering in the passage--in which
she squeezed up young Buttons, the page, while she put questions to him
regarding baby, and the cook's health, and whether she had taken what
Mrs. Gashleigh had sent overnight, and the housemaid's health, and
whether Mr. Timmins had gone to chambers or not--and when, after this
preliminary chatter, Buttons flung open the door, announcing--"Mrs.
Gashleigh and the young ladies," Fitzroy laid down his Times newspaper
with an expression that had best not be printed here, and took his hat
and walked away.

Mrs. Gashleigh has never liked him since he left off calling her mamma,
and kissing her. But he said he could not stand it any longer--he was
hanged if he would. So he went away to chambers, leaving the field clear
to Rosa, mamma, and the two dear girls.

Or to one of them, rather: for before leaving the house, he thought he
would have a look at little Fitzroy up stairs in the nursery, and he
found the child in the hands of his maternal aunt Eliza, who was holding
him and pinchin