Edward, she felt sure, would not so sully that
sacred relation; still the word was obnoxious for its past offences; and
she froze at it: "I have not the honour to know who the personage is you
so describe," said she formally. Edward replied very carelessly that it
was an upholsterer at the north end of the town.
"Ah, a tradesman you patronise."
"Humph! Well, yes, that is the word, mamma, haw! haw! I have been making
the bloke a lot of oak candlesticks, and human heads with sparkling eyes,
for walking-sticks, &c. And now I'll go and draw my--protege's--blunt."
The lady's hands were uplifted towards pitying Heaven with one impulse.
The young workman grinned: "Soyons de notre siecle," said he, and
departed whistling in the tenor clef. He had the mellowest whistle.
After a few minutes well spent in deploring the fall of her Oxonian, and
gently denouncing his motto, and his century, its ways, and above all its
words, Mrs. Dodd took Julia to her bedroom, and unlocked drawers and
doors in her wardrobe; and straightway Sarah, who was hurriedly flogging
the chairs with a duster, relaxed, and began to work on a cheval-glass as
slowly as if she was drawing Nelson's lions at a thousand pounds the
tail.
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