so about Mrs. Bolt's neck
when at Court--it was curious to see how the genius of Mr. Bolt would
come out; and how in conjunction with Thomas' sagacity quite a comedy
of sharps would be played. Thomas tended door, was rather sleepy of
countenance, but could assume an air of great consequence, and would
receive his importuning visitor with unexceptional bows. 'Peppers I
think you said?' Thomas would politely inquire, smoothing his chin
reflectively, giving his ear a knowing cant, and concluding by
whisking his fingers through his powdered hair. 'Mr. Peppers presents
a little affair this morning;' he would announce blandly, having left
the gentleman standing in the hall. Mr. Bolt, who occupied a sumptuous
arm-chair in the parlor, and generally sat reading leisurely the
Morning Post, would receive this announcement with some change of
countenance. 'Peppers! Peppers!' he would reiterate, Thomas watching
his every movement. 'Blast the fellow--he's a perfect torment'--Thomas
would interrupt by inquiring if he should bow the individual out.
'Say, Thomas,' he would rejoin, 'that we are engaged to-day studying
treaties and cannot be disturbed--that he must call at a future day.'
Mr. Bolt would with great complacency, turn to a more comfortable
position in his great chair. Thomas always executed his mission with
great skill, informing the unfortunate individual that a little
misunderstanding having broken out between the two nations, the
Legation was extremely busy in the study of treaties, and could not be
disturbed. Having digested this piece of information rather doggedly,
Mr. Thomas would politely bow the gentleman into the street, watching
his departure through the side lights. Another time, when Broadwood
called for that trifle, having a deal of ready money to make up, it
was despatch day; and upon the same principle despatch day came so
often that people began to think the Great Republic engaged in one
eternal controversy with the nations of Europe. Bolt never could be
seen on despatch days. The man with the bill for the tin-teapot was
alike unsuccessful; the gentlemen up-stairs walled themselves up in
despatch days, while Thomas politely bowed out all-importuners. They
were a scurvy lot, and might have known better! Mr. Bolt thought, as
he contemplated the sacred character of the mission. I well remember
how I laughed once, when Madame Lacelooper's man of business drove
Mr. Secretary Bolt, as I thought, into close quarters