nother, not even in the highest ranks
of society. There lies some subtle distinction here; due to the minute
perceptions which compel the gossips of a family to coin phrases that
shall express the nicest shades of a domestic difference. By a Port, one
may understand them to indicate something unsympathetically impressive;
whereas a Presence would seem to be a thing that directs the most
affable appeal to our poor human weaknesses. His Majesty King George
IV., for instance, possessed a Port: Beau Brummel wielded a Presence.
Many, it is true, take a Presence to mean no more than a shirt-frill,
and interpret a Port as the art of walking erect. But this is to look
upon language too narrowly.

On a more intimate acquaintance with the couple, you acknowledge the
aptness of the fine distinction. By birth Mrs. Harrington had claims to
rank as a gentlewoman. That is, her father was a lawyer of Lymport. The
lawyer, however, since we must descend the genealogical tree, was known
to have married his cook, who was the lady's mother. Now Mr. Melchisedec
was mysterious concerning his origin; and, in his cups, talked largely
and wisely of a great Welsh family, issuing from a line of princes; and
it is certain that he knew enough of their history to have instructed
them on particular points of it. He never could think that his wife had
done him any honour in espousing him; nor was she the woman to tell
him so. She had married him for love, rejecting various suitors, Squire
Uplift among them, in his favour. Subsequently she had committed
the profound connubial error of transferring her affections, or her
thoughts, from him to his business, which, indeed, was much in want of
a mate; and while he squandered the guineas, she patiently picked up the
pence. They had not lived unhappily. He was constantly courteous to
her. But to see the Port at that sordid work considerably ruffled the
Presence--put, as it were, the peculiar division between them; and
to behave toward her as the same woman who had attracted his youthful
ardours was a task for his magnificent mind, and may have ranked with
him as an indemnity for his general conduct, if his reflections ever
stretched so far. The townspeople of Lymport were correct in saying that
his wife, and his wife alone, had, as they termed it, kept him together.
Nevertheless, now that he was dead, and could no longer be kept
together, they entirely forgot their respect for her, in the outburst of
their se