was kept in a rattle, and the glasses jingled on the table as the flymen
and coachmen plied the knocker, and the soiree came in. From my place
I could see everything: the guests as they arrived (I remarked very few
carriages, mostly cabs and flies), and a little crowd of blackguard boys
and children, who were formed round the door, and gave ironical cheers
to the folks as they stepped out of their vehicles.
As for the evening-party, if a crowd in the dog-days is pleasant, poor
Mrs. Timmins certainly had a successful soiree. You could hardly move
on the stair. Mrs. Sternhold broke in the banisters, and nearly fell
through. There was such a noise and chatter you could not hear the
singing of the Miss Gashleighs, which was no great loss. Lady Bungay
could hardly get to her carriage, being entangled with Colonel Wedgewood
in the passage. An absurd attempt was made to get up a dance of some
kind; but before Mrs. Crowder had got round the room, the hanging-lamp
in the dining-room below was stove in, and fell with a crash on the
table, now prepared for refreshment.
Why, in fact, did the Timminses give that party at all? It was quite
beyond their means. They have offended a score of their old friends,
and pleased none of their acquaintances. So angry were many who were not
asked, that poor Rosa says she must now give a couple more parties
and take in those not previously invited. And I know for a fact
that Fubsby's bill is not yet paid; nor Binney and Latham's the
wine-merchants; that the breakage and hire of glass and china cost ever
so much money; that every true friend of Timmins has cried out against
his absurd extravagance, and that now, when every one is going out of
town, Fitz has hardly money to pay his circuit, much more to take Rosa
to a watering-place, as he wished and promised.
As for Mrs. Gashleigh, the only feasible plan of economy which she
can suggest, is that she could come and live with her daughter and
son-in-law, and that they should keep house together. If he agrees to
this, she has a little sum at the banker's, with which she would not
mind easing his present difficulties; and the poor wretch is so utterly
bewildered and crestfallen that it is very likely he will become her
victim.
The Topham Sawyers, when they go down into the country, will represent
Fitz as a ruined man and reckless prodigal; his uncle, the attorney,
from whom he has expectations, will most likely withdraw his business,
and ado
|