his neighbor's was,
that he had hired, as we have said, the greater part of the plate, and
that his cowardly conscience magnified faults and disasters of which no
one else probably took heed.

But Rosa thought, from the supercilious air with which Mrs. Topham
Sawyer was eying the plate and other arrangements, that she was
remarking the difference of the ciphers on the forks and spoons--which
had, in fact, been borrowed from every one of Fitzroy's friends--(I
know, for instance, that he had my six, among others, and only returned
five, along with a battered old black-pronged plated abomination, which
I have no doubt belongs to Mrs. Gashleigh, whom I hereby request to send
back mine in exchange)--their guilty consciences, I say, made them fancy
that every one was spying out their domestic deficiencies: whereas, it
is probable that nobody present thought of their failings at all. People
never do: they never see holes in their neighbors' coats--they are too
indolent, simple, and charitable.

Some things, however, one could not help remarking: for instance, though
Fitz is my closest friend, yet could I avoid seeing and being amused by
his perplexity and his dismal efforts to be facetious? His eye wandered
all round the little room with quick uneasy glances, very different from
those frank and jovial looks with which he is accustomed to welcome you
to a leg of mutton; and Rosa, from the other end of the table, and
over the flowers, entree dishes, and wine-coolers, telegraphed him with
signals of corresponding alarm. Poor devils! why did they ever go beyond
that leg of mutton?

Funnyman was not brilliant in conversation, scarcely opening his mouth,
except for the purposes of feasting. The fact is, our friend Tom Dawson
was at table, who knew all his stories, and in his presence the greatest
wag is always silent and uneasy.

Fitz has a very pretty wit of his own, and a good reputation on circuit;
but he is timid before great people. And indeed the presence of that
awful Lady Bungay on his right hand was enough to damp him. She was in
court mourning (for the late Prince of Schlippenschloppen). She had on a
large black funereal turban and appurtenances, and a vast breastplate of
twinkling, twiddling black bugles. No wonder a man could not be gay in
talking to HER.

Mrs. Rowdy and Mrs. Topham Sawyer love each other as women do who have
the same receiving nights, and ask the same society; they were only
separated by Ranville