bearded man, but
has a strange air of being in his wife's custody nevertheless. The
lady is apparently forty-five, red to a fault, full in the neck, and
with a figure which necessitates a somewhat haughty pose of the head
unless one would appear gross and piggish. There is much to admire
in this lady, peony though she be. The fiercely-bearded husband is
smaller than his wife, and, in spite of her commanding air and his
subdued aspect, I have not a doubt he rules her with a rod of iron.
Appearances are very deceptive in this direction. I have known so many
large ladies married to little men who (the ladies) carried themselves
in public like grenadiers or drum-majors, and in private doted on
their little lords' shoe-strings! Next the fiercely-bearded husband
sits a very pretty girl, whom he finds his entertainment in constantly
observing with the air of a connoisseur. She is modesty itself; her
eyes are never off her plate; and from the at-ease manner in which he
contemplates her it is clear he no more expects her to return his gaze
than he expects a torpedo to go off under his chair.

The dinner proceeds most decorously. If it were a funeral, indeed, it
could hardly be less given to anything approaching hilarity. There
is now and then a little conversation, but the gaps are
frightful--yawning chasms of silence of the sort in which you are
moved to wild thoughts of running away, for fear you may suddenly
commit some act of horrible impropriety, like whistling in church. In
one of these gaps--during which the whole company, having finished the
course, is waiting gloomily for the victim of tough beef (who is still
struggling) to have done--my chequered neighbor remarks, in an aside
which makes every one start as if a pistol had been fired off,
"Goodish-sized pause, eh?"

But with the dessert we begin to unbend. We are still exceedingly
decorous, but our tongues are loosened a little, and we exchange
amiable remarks, under whose genial influence we begin to feel that
the worst is over. Unfortunately, however, with the spread of sunshine
among us there is the muttering of a storm at our backs: the butler
pushes his female assistant aside with deep rumbling growls, and
presently explodes with open rage at her stupidity. The diners turn
and stare incredulous and amazed. The butler rushes madly from the
room. The female assistant, agitated but obstinate, seizes the
blanc-mange and the cream and proceeds to serve them. I shall