Mr. Titmarsh, No. 3 Bell Lane, Salisbury Square, near St. Bride's
Church, Fleet Street. Ring, if you please, the two-pair bell."
"WHAT, sir?" said Mr. Polonius.
"HWAT!" shrieked the old lady. "Mr. Hwat? Mais, ma chere, c'est
impayable. Come along--here's the carr'age! Give me your arm, Mr.
Hwat, and get inside, and tell me all about your thirteen aunts."
She seized on my elbow and hobbled through the shop as fast as
possible; the young ladies following her, laughing.
"Now, jump in, do you hear?" said she, poking her sharp nose out of
the window.
"I can't, ma'am," says I; "I have a friend."
"Pooh, pooh! send 'um to the juice, and jump in!" And before
almost I could say a word, a great powdered fellow in yellow-plush
breeches pushed me up the steps and banged the door to.
I looked just for one minute as the barouche drove away at Hoskins,
and never shall forget his figure. There stood Gus, his mouth wide
open, his eyes staring, a smoking cheroot in his hand, wondering
with all his might at the strange thing that had just happened to
me.
"Who IS that Titmarsh?" says Gus: "there's a coronet on the
carriage, by Jingo!"
CHAPTER III
HOW THE POSSESSOR OF THE DIAMOND IS WHISKED INTO A MAGNIFICENT
CHARIOT, AND HAS YET FURTHER GOOD LUCK
I sat on the back seat of the carriage, near a very nice young
lady, about my dear Mary's age--that is to say, seventeen and
three-quarters; and opposite us sat the old Countess and her other
grand-daughter--handsome too, but ten years older. I recollect I
had on that day my blue coat and brass buttons, nankeen trousers, a
white sprig waist-coat, and one of Dando's silk hats, that had just
come in in the year '22, and looked a great deal more glossy than
the best beaver.
"And who was that hidjus manster"--that was the way her Ladyship
pronounced,--"that ojous vulgar wretch, with the iron heels to his
boots, and the big mouth, and the imitation goold neck-chain, who
STEERED at us so as we got into the carriage?"
How she should have known that Gus's chain was mosaic I can't tell;
but so it was, and we had bought it for five-and-twenty and
sixpence only the week before at M'Phail's, in St. Paul's
Churchyard. But I did not like to hear my friend abused, and so
spoke out for him -
"Ma'am," says I, "that young gentleman's name is Augustus Hoskins.
We live together; and a better or more kind-hearted fellow does not
exist."
"You are quite right to stand up for your friends, sir," said the
second lady; whose name, it appears, was Lady Jane, but whom the
grandmamma called Lady Jene.
"Well, upon me conscience, so he is now, Lady Jene; and I like
sper't in a young man. So his name is Hoskins, is it? I know, my
dears, all the Hoskinses in England. There are the Lincolnshire
Hoskinses, the Shropshire Hoskinses: they say the Admiral's
daughter, Bell, was in love with a black footman, or boatswain, or
some such thing; but the world's so censorious. There's old Doctor
Hoskins of Bath, who attended poor dear Drum in the quinsy; and
poor dear old Fred Hoskins, the gouty General: I remember him as
thin as a lath in the year '84, and as active as a harlequin, and
in love with me--oh, how he was in love with me!"
"You seem to have had a host of admirers in those days,
Grandmamma?" said Lady Jane.
"Hundreds, my dear,--hundreds of thousands. I was the toast of
Bath, and a great beauty, too: would you ever have thought it now,
upon your conscience and without flattery, Mr.-a-What-d'ye-call-
'im?"
"Indeed, ma'am, I never should," I answered, for the old lady was
as ugly as possible; and at my saying this the two young ladies
began screaming with laughter, and I saw the two great-whiskered
footmen grinning over the back of the carriage.
"Upon my word, you're mighty candid, Mr. What's-your-name--mighty
candid indeed; but I like candour in young people. But a beauty I
was. Just ask your friend's uncle the General. He's one of the
Lincolnshire Hoskinses--I knew he was by the strong family
likeness. Is he the eldest son? It's a pretty property, though
sadly encumbered; for old Sir George was the divvle of a man--a
friend of Hanbury Williams, and Lyttleton, and those horrid,
monstrous, ojous people! How much will he have now, mister, when
the Admiral dies?"
"Why, ma'am, I can't say; but the Admiral is not my friend's
father."
"Not his father?--but he IS, I tell you, and I'm never wrong. Who
is his father, then?"
"Ma'am, Gus's father's a leatherseller in Skinner Street, Snow
Hill,--a very respectable house, ma'am. But Gus is only third son,
and so can't expect a great share in the property."
The two young ladies smiled at this--the old lady said, "Hwat?"
"I like you, sir," Lady Jane said, "for not being ashamed of your
friends, whatever their rank of life may be. Shall we have the
pleasure of setting you down anywhere, Mr. Titmarsh?"
"Noways particular, my Lady," says I. "We have a holiday at our
office to-day--at least Roundhand gave me and Gus leave; and I
shall be very happy, indeed, to take a drive in the Park, if it's
no offence."
"I'm sure it will give us--infinite pleasure," said Lady Jane;
though rather in a grave way.
"Oh, that it will!" says Lady Fanny, clapping her hands: "won't
it, Grandmamma? And after we have been in the Park, we can walk in
Kensington Gardens, if Mr. Titmarsh will be good enough to
accompany us."
"Indeed, Fanny, we will do no such thing," says Lady Jane.
"Indeed, but we will though!" shrieked out Lady Drum. "Ain't I
dying to know everything about his uncle and thirteen aunts? and
you're all chattering so, you young women, that not a blessed
syllable will you allow me or my young friend here to speak."
Lady Jane gave a shrug with her shoulders, and did not say a single
word more. Lady Fanny, who was as gay as a young kitten (if I may
be allowed so to speak of the aristocracy), laughed, and blushed,
and giggled, and seemed quite to enjoy her sister's ill-humour.
And the Countess began at once, and entered into the history of the
thirteen Misses Hoggarty, which was not near finished when we
entered the Park.
When there, you can't think what hundreds of gents on horseback
came to the carriage and talked to the ladies. They had their joke
for Lady Drum, who seemed to be a character in her way; their bow
for Lady Jane; and, the young ones especially, their compliment for
Lady Fanny.
Though she bowed and blushed, as a young lady should, Lady Fanny
seemed to be thinking of something else; for she kept her head out
of the carriage, looking eagerly among the horsemen, as if she
expected to see somebody. Aha! my Lady Fanny, I knew what it meant
when a young pretty lady like you was absent, and on the look-out,
and only half answered the questions put to her. Let alone
Sam
Titmarsh--he knows what Somebody means as well as another, I
warrant. As I saw these manoeuvres going on, I could not help just
giving a wink to Lady Jane, as much as to say I knew what was what.
"I guess the young lady is looking for Somebody," says I. It was
then her turn to look queer, I assure you, and she blushed as red
as scarlet; but, after a minute, the good-natured little thing
looked at her sister, and both the young ladies put their
handkerchiefs up to their faces, and began laughing--laughing as if
I had said the funniest thing in the world.
"Il est charmant, votre monsieur," said Lady Jane to her
grandmamma; and on which I bowed, and said, "Madame, vous me faites
beaucoup d'honneur:" for I know the French language, and was
pleased to find that these good ladies had taken a liking to me.
"I'm a poor humble lad, ma'am, not used to London society, and do
really feel it quite kind of you to take me by the hand so, and
give me a drive in your fine carriage."
At this minute a gentleman on a black horse, with a pale face and a
tuft to his chin, came riding up to the carriage; and I knew by a
little start that Lady Fanny gave, and by her instantly looking
round the other way, that SOMEBODY was come at last.
"Lady Drum," said he, "your most devoted servant! I have just been
riding with a gentleman who almost shot himself for love of the
beautiful Countess of Drum in the year--never mind the year."
"Was it Killblazes?" said the lady: "he's a dear old man, and I'm
quite ready to go off with him this minute. Or was it that delight
of an old bishop? He's got a lock of my hair now--I gave it him
when he was Papa's chaplain; and let me tell you it would be a hard
matter to find another now in the same place."
"Law, my Lady!" says I, "you don't say so?"
"But indeed I do, my good sir," says she; "for between ourselves,
my head's as bare as a cannon-ball--ask Fanny if it isn't. Such a
fright as the poor thing got when she was a babby, and came upon me
suddenly in my dressing-room without my wig!"
"I hope Lady Fanny has recovered from the shock," said "Somebody,"
looking first at her, and then at me as if he had a mind to swallow
me. And would you believe it? all that Lady Fanny could say was,
"Pretty well, I thank you, my Lord;" and she said this with as much
fluttering and blushing as we used to say our Virgil at school--
when we hadn't learned it.
My Lord still kept on looking very fiercely at me, and muttered
something about having hoped to find a seat in Lady Drum's
carriage, as he was tired of riding; on which Lady Fanny muttered
something, too, about "a friend of Grandmamma's."
"You should say a friend of yours, Fanny," says Lady Jane: "I am
sure we should never have come to the Park if Fanny had not
insisted upon bringing Mr. Titmarsh hither. Let me introduce the
Earl of Tiptoff to Mr. Titmarsh." But, instead of taking off his
hat, as I did mine, his Lordship growled out that he hoped for
another opportunity, and galloped off again on his black horse.
Why the deuce I should have offended him I never could understand.
But it seemed as if I was destined to offend all the men that day;
for who should presently come up but the Right Honourable Edmund
Preston, one of His Majesty's Secretaries of State (as I know very
well by the almanac in our office) and the husband of Lady Jane.
The Right Honourable Edmund was riding a grey cob, and was a fat
pale-faced man, who looked as if he never went into the open air.
"Who the devil's that?" said he to his wife, looking surlily both
at me and her.
"Oh, it's a friend of Grandmamma's and Jane's," said Lady Fanny at
once, looking, like a sly rogue as she was, quite archly at her
sister--who in her turn appeared quite frightened, and looked
imploringly at her sister, and never dared to breathe a syllable.
"Yes, indeed," continued Lady Fanny, "Mr. Titmarsh is a cousin of
Grandmamma's by the mother's side: by the Hoggarty side. Didn't
you know the Hoggarties when you were in Ireland, Edmund, with Lord
Bagwig? Let me introduce you to Grandmamma's cousin, Mr. Titmarsh:
Mr. Titmarsh, my brother, Mr. Edmund Preston."
There was Lady Jane all the time treading upon her sister's foot as
hard as possible, and the little wicked thing would take no notice;
and I, who had never heard of the cousinship, feeling as confounded
as could be. But I did not know the Countess of Drum near so well
as that sly minx her grand-daughter did; for the old lady, who had
just before called poor Gus Hoskins her cousin, had, it appeared,
the mania of fancying all the world related to her, and said -
"Yes, we're cousins, and not very far removed. Mick Hoggarty's
grandmother was Millicent Brady, and she and my Aunt Towzer were
related, as all the world knows; for Decimus Brady, of Ballybrady,
married an own cousin of Aunt Towzer's mother, Bell Swift--that was
no relation of the Dean's, my love, who came but of a so-so family-
-and isn't THAT clear?"
"Oh, perfectly, Grandmamma," said Lady Jane, laughing, while the
right honourable gent still rode by us, looking sour and surly.
"And sure you knew the Hoggarties, Edmund?--the thirteen red-haired
girls--the nine graces, and four over, as poor Clanboy used to call
them. Poor Clan!--a cousin of yours and mine, Mr. Titmarsh, and
sadly in love with me he was too. Not remember them ALL now,
Edmund?--not remember?--not remember Biddy and Minny, and Thedy and
Widdy, and Mysie and Grizzy, and Polly and Dolly and the rest?"
"D- the Miss Hoggarties, ma'am," said the right honourable gent;
and he said it with such energy, that his grey horse gave a sudden
lash out that well nigh sent him over his head. Lady Jane
screamed; Lady Fanny laughed; old Lady Drum looked as if she did
not care twopence, and said "Serve you right for swearing, you
ojous man you!"
"Hadn't you better come into the carriage, Edmund--Mr. Preston?"
cried out the lady, anxiously.
"Oh, I'm sure I'll slip out, ma'am," says I.
"Pooh--pooh! don't stir," said Lady Drum: "it's my carriage; and
if Mr. Preston chooses to swear at a lady of my years in that ojous
vulgar way--in that ojous vulgar way I repeat--I don't see why my
friends should be inconvenienced for him. Let him sit on the dicky
if he likes, or come in and ride bodkin." It was quite clear that
my Lady Drum hated her grandson-in-law heartily; and I've remarked
somehow in families that this kind of hatred is by no means
uncommon.
Mr. Preston, one of His Majesty's Secretaries of State, was, to
tell the truth, in a great fright upon his horse, and was glad to
get away from the kicking plunging brute. His pale face looked
still paler than before, and his hands and legs trembled, as he
dismounted from the cob and gave the reins to his servant. I
disliked the looks of the chap--of the master, I mean--at the first
moment he came up, when he spoke rudely to that
nice gentle wife of
his; and I thought he was a cowardly fellow, as the adventure of
the cob showed him to be. Heaven bless you! a baby could have
ridden it; and here was the man with his soul in his mouth at the
very first kick.
"Oh, quick! DO come in, Edmund," said Lady Fanny, laughing; and the
carriage steps being let down, and giving me a great scowl as he
came in, he was going to place himself in Lady Fanny's corner (I
warrant you I wouldn't budge from mine), when the little rogue
cried out, "Oh, no! by no means, Mr. Preston. Shut the door,
Thomas. And oh! what fun it will be to show all the world a
Secretary of State riding bodkin!"
And pretty glum the Secretary of State looked, I assure you!
"Take my place, Edmund, and don't mind Fanny's folly," said Lady
Jane, timidly.
"Oh no! Pray, madam, don't stir! I'm comfortable, very
comfortable; and so I hope is this Mr.--this gentleman."
"Perfectly, I assure you," says I. "I was going to offer to ride
your horse home for you, as you seemed to be rather frightened at
it; but the fact was, I was so comfortable here that really I
COULDN'T move."
Such a grin as old Lady Drum gave when I said that!--how her little
eyes twinkled, and her little sly mouth puckered up! I couldn't
help speaking, for, look you, my blood was up.
"We shall always be happy of your company, Cousin Titmarsh," says
she; and handed me a gold snuff-box, out of which I took a pinch,
and sneezed with the air of a lord.
"As you have invited this gentleman into your carriage, Lady Jane
Preston, hadn't you better invite him home to dinner?" says Mr.
Preston, quite blue with rage.
"I invited him into my carriage," says the old lady; "and as we are
going to dine at your house, and you press it, I'm sure I shall be
very happy to see him there."
"I'm very sorry I'm engaged," said I.
"Oh, indeed, what a pity!" says Right Honourable Ned, still
glowering at his wife. "What a pity that this gentleman--I forget
his name--that your friend, Lady Jane, is engaged! I am sure you
would have had such gratification in meeting your relation in
Whitehall."
Lady Drum was over-fond of finding out relations to be sure; but
this speech of Right Honourable Ned's was rather too much. "Now,
Sam," says I, "be a man and show your spirit!" So I spoke up at
once, and said, "Why, ladies, as the right honourable gent is so
VERY pressing, I'll give up my engagement, and shall have sincere
pleasure in cutting mutton with him. What's your hour, sir?"
He didn't condescend to answer, and for me I did not care; for, you
see, I did not intend to dine with the man, but only to give him a
lesson of manners. For though I am but a poor fellow, and hear
people cry out how vulgar it is to eat peas with a knife, or ask
three times for cheese, and such like points of ceremony, there's
something, I think, much more vulgar than all this, and that is,
insolence to one's inferiors. I hate the chap that uses it, as I
scorn him of humble rank that affects to be of the fashion; and so
I determined to let Mr. Preston know a piece of my mind.
When the carriage drove up to his house, I handed out the ladies as
politely as possible, and walked into the hall, and then, taking
hold of Mr. Preston's button at the door, I said, before the ladies
and the two big servants--upon my word I did--"Sir," says I, "this
kind old lady asked me into her carriage, and I rode in it to
please her, not myself. When you came up and asked who the devil I
was, I thought you might have put the question in a more polite
manner; but it wasn't my business to speak. When, by way of a
joke, you invited me to dinner, I thought I would answer in a joke
too, and here I am. But don't be frightened; I'm not a-going to