Mr. Snodgrass was obliged to walk into Irvine one evening, to get rid of
a raging tooth, which had tormented him for more than a week. The
operation was so delicately and cleverly performed by the surgeon to whom
he applied--one of those young medical gentlemen, who, after having been
educated for the army or navy, are obliged, in this weak piping time of
peace, to glean what practice they can amid their native shades--that the
amiable divine found himself in a condition to call on Miss Isabella Tod.
During this visit, Saunders Dickie, the postman, brought a London letter
to the door, for Miss Isabella; and Mr. Snodgrass having desired the
servant to inquire if there were any for him, had the good fortune to get
the following from Mr. Andrew Pringle:--
LETTER XXIX
_Andrew Pringle Esq._, _to the Rev. Mr. Charles Snodgrass_
My Dear Friend--I never receive a letter from you without experiencing a
strong emotion of regret, that talents like yours should be wilfully
consigned to the sequestered vegetation of a country pastor's life. But
we have so often discussed this point, that I shall only offend your
delicacy if I now revert to it more particularly. I cannot, however, but
remark, that although a private station may be the happiest, a public is
the proper sphere of virtue and talent, so clear, superior, and decided
as yours. I say this with the more confidence, as I have really, from
your letter, obtained a better conception of the queen's case, than from
all that I have been able to read and hear upon the subject in London.
The rule you lay down is excellent. Public safety is certainly the only
principle which can justify mankind in agreeing to observe and enforce
penal statutes; and, therefore, I think with you, that unless it could be
proved in a very simple manner, that it was requisite for the public
safety to institute proceedings against the queen--her sins or
indiscretions should have been allowed to remain in the obscurity of her
private circle.
I have attended the trial several times. For a judicial proceeding, it
seems to me too long--and for a legislative, too technical. Brougham, it
is allowed, has displayed even greater talent than was expected; but he
is too sharp; he seems to me more anxious to gain a triumph, than to
establish truth. I do not like the tone of his proceedings, while I
cannot sufficiently admire his dexterity. The style of Denman is more
lofty, and impressed with stronger lineaments of sincerity. As for their
opponents, I really cannot endure the Attorney-General as an orator; his
whole mind consists, as it were, of a number of little hands and
claws--each of which holds some scrap or portion of his subject; but you
might as well expect to get an idea of the form and character of a tree,
by looking at the fallen leaves, the fruit, the seeds, and the blossoms,
as anything like a comprehensive view of a subject, from an intellect so
constituted as that of Sir Robert Gifford. He is a man of application,
but of meagre abilities, and seems never to have read a book of travels
in his life. The Solicitor-General is somewhat better; but he is one of
those who think a certain artificial gravity requisite to professional
consequence; and which renders him somewhat obtuse in the tact of
propriety.
Within the bar, the talent is superior to what it is without; and I have
been often delighted with the amazing fineness, if I may use the
expression, with which the Chancellor discriminates the shades of
difference in the various points on which he is called to deliver his
opinion. I consider his mind as a curiosity of no ordinary kind. It
deceives itself by its own acuteness. The edge is too sharp; and,
instead of cutting straight through, it often diverges--alarming his
conscience with the dread of doing wrong. This singular subtlety has the
effect of impairing the reverence which the endowments and high
professional accomplishments of this great man are otherwise calculated
to inspire. His eloquence is not effective--it touches no feeling nor
affects any passion; but still it affords wonderful displays of a lucid
intellect. I can compare it to nothing but a pencil of sunshine; in
which, although one sees countless motes flickering and fluctuating, it
yet illuminates, and steadily brings into the most satisfactory
distinctness, every object on which it directly falls.
Lord Erskine is a character of another class, and whatever difference of
opinion may exist with respect to their professional abilities and
attainments, it will be allowed by those who contend that Eldon is the
better lawyer--that Erskine is the greater genius. Nature herself, with
a constellation in her hand, playfully illuminates his path to the temple
of reasonable justice; while Precedence with her guide-book, and Study
with a lantern, cautiously show the road in which the Chancellor warily
plods his weary way to that of legal Equity. The sedateness of Eldon is
so remarkable, that it is difficult to conceive that he was ever young;
but Erskine cannot grow old; his spirit is still glowing and flushed with
the enthusiasm of youth. When impassioned, his voice acquires a
singularly elevated and pathetic accent; and I can easily conceive the
irresistible effect he must have had on the minds of a jury, when he was
in the vigour of his physical powers, and the case required appeals of
tenderness or generosity. As a parliamentary orator, Earl Grey is
undoubtedly his superior; but there is something much less popular and
conciliating in his manner. His eloquence is heard to most advantage
when he is contemptuous; and he is then certainly dignified, ardent, and
emphatic; but it is apt, I should think, to impress those who hear him,
for the first time, with an idea that he is a very supercilious
personage, and this unfavourable impression is liable to be strengthened
by the elegant aristocratic languor of his appearance.
I think that you once told me you had some knowledge of the Marquis of
Lansdowne, when he was Lord Henry Petty. I can hardly hope that, after
an interval of so many years, you will recognise him in the following
sketch:--His appearance is much more that of a Whig than Lord Grey--stout
and sturdy--but still withal gentlemanly; and there is a pleasing
simplicity, with somewhat of good-nature, in the expression of his
countenance, that renders him, in a quiescent state, the more agreeable
character of the two. He speaks exceedingly well--clear, methodical, and
argumentative; but his eloquence, like himself, is not so graceful as it
is upon the whole manly; and there is a little tendency to verbosity in
his language, as there is to corpulency in his figure; but nothing
turgid, while it is entirely free from affectation. The character of
respectable is very legibly impressed, in everything about the mind and
manner of his lordship. I should, now that I have seen and heard him, be
astonished to hear such a man represented as capable of being factious.
I should say something about Lord Liverpool, not only on account of his
rank as a minister, but also on account of the talents which have
qualified him for that high situation. The greatest objection that I
have to him as a speaker, is owing to the loudness of his voice--in other
respects, what he does say is well digested. But I do not think that he
embraces his subject with so much power and comprehension as some of his
opponents; and he has evidently less actual experience of the world.
This may doubtless be attributed to his having been almost constantly in
office since he came into public life; than which nothing is more
detrimental to the unfolding of natural ability, while it induces a sort
of artificial talent, connected with forms and technicalities, which,
though useful in business, is but of minor consequence in a comparative
estimate of moral and intellectual qualities. I am told that in his
manner he resembles Mr. Pitt; be this, however, as it may, he is
evidently a speaker, formed more by habit and imitation, than one whom
nature prompts to be eloquent. He lacks that occasional accent of
passion, the melody of oratory; and I doubt if, on any occasion, he could
at all approximate to that magnificent intrepidity which was admired as
one of the noblest characteristics of his master's style.
But all the display of learning and eloquence, and intellectual power and
majesty of the House of Lords, shrinks into insignificance when compared
with the moral attitude which the people have taken on this occasion.
You know how much I have ever admired the attributes of the English
national character--that boundless generosity, which can only be compared
to the impartial benevolence of the sunshine--that heroic magnanimity,
which makes the hand ever ready to succour a fallen foe; and that sublime
courage, which rises with the energy of a conflagration roused by a
tempest, at every insult or menace of an enemy. The compassionate
interest taken by the populace in the future condition of the queen is
worthy of this extraordinary people. There may be many among them
actuated by what is called the radical spirit; but malignity alone would
dare to ascribe the bravery of their compassion to a less noble feeling
than that which has placed the kingdom so proudly in the van of all
modern nations. There may be an amiable delusion, as my Lord Castlereagh
has said, in the popular sentiments with respect to the queen. Upon
that, as upon her case, I offer no opinion. It is enough for me to have
seen, with the admiration of a worshipper, the manner in which the
multitude have espoused her cause.
But my paper is filled, and I must conclude. I should, however, mention
that my sister's marriage is appointed to take place to-morrow, and that
I accompany the happy pair to France.--Yours truly,
ANDREW PRINGLE.
"This is a dry letter," said Mr. Snodgrass, and he handed it to Miss
Isabella, who, in exchange, presented the one which she had herself at
the same time received; but just as Mr. Snodgrass was on the point of
reading it, Miss Becky Glibbans was announced. "How lucky this is,"
exclaimed Miss Becky, "to find you both thegither! Now you maun tell me
all the particulars; for Miss Mally Glencairn is no in, and her letter
lies unopened. I am just gasping to hear how Rachel conducted herself at
being married in the kirk before all the folk--married to the hussar
captain, too, after all! who would have thought it?"
"How, have you heard of the marriage already?" said Miss Isabella. "Oh,
it's in the newspapers," replied the amiable inquisitant,--"Like ony
tailor or weaver's--a' weddings maun nowadays gang into the papers. The
whole toun, by this time, has got it; and I wouldna wonder if Rachel
Pringle's marriage ding the queen's divorce out of folk's heads for the
next nine days to come. But only to think of her being married in a
public kirk. Surely her father would never submit to hae't done by a
bishop? And then to put it in the London paper, as if Rachel Pringle had
been somebody of distinction. Perhaps it might have been more to the
purpose, considering what dragoon officers are, if she had got the doited
Doctor, her father, to publish the intended marriage in the papers
beforehand."
"Haud that condumacious tongue of yours," cried a voice, panting with
haste as the door opened, and Mrs. Glibbans entered. "Becky, will you
never devawl wi' your backbiting. I wonder frae whom the misleart lassie
takes a' this passion of clashing."
The authority of her parent's tongue silenced Miss Becky, and Mrs.
Glibbans having seated herself, continued,--"Is it your opinion, Mr.
Snodgrass, that this marriage can hold good, contracted, as I am told it
is mentioned in the papers to hae been, at the horns of the altar of
Episcopalian apostacy?"
"I can set you right as to that," said Miss Isabella. "Rachel mentions,
that, after returning from the church, the Doctor himself performed the
ceremony anew, according to the Presbyterian usage." "I am glad to
heart, very glad indeed," said Mrs. Glibbans. "It would have been a
judgment-like thing, had a bairn of Dr. Pringle's--than whom, although
there may be abler, there is not a sounder man in a' the West of
Scotland--been sacrificed to Moloch, like the victims of prelatic
idolatry."
At this juncture, Miss Mally Glencairn was announced: she entered,
holding a letter from Mrs. Pringle in her hand, with the seal unbroken.
Having heard of the marriage from an acquaintance in the street, she had
hurried home, in the well-founded expectation of hearing from her friend
and well-wisher, and taking up the letter, which she found on her table,
came with all speed to Miss Isabella Tod to commune with her on the
tidings.
Never was any confluence of visitors more remarkable than on this
occasion. Before Miss Mally had well explained the cause of her abrupt
intrusion, Mr. Micklewham made his appearance. He had come to Irvine to
be measured for a new coat, and meeting by accident with Saunders Dickie,
got the Doctor's letter from him, which, after reading, he thought he
could do no less than call at Mrs. Tod's, to let Miss Isabella know the
change which had taken place in the condition of her friend.
Thus were all the correspondents of the Pringles assembled, by the merest
chance, like the _dramatis personae_ at the end of a play. After a
little harmless bantering, it was agreed that Miss Mally should read her
communication first--as all the others were previously acquainted with
the contents of their respective letters, and Miss Mally read as
follows:--
LETTER XXX
_Mrs. Pringle to Miss Mally Glencairn_
DEAR MISS MALLY--I hav a cro to pik with you conserning yoor comishon
aboot the partickels for your friends. You can hav no noshon what the
Doctor and me suffert on the head of the flooring shrubs. We took your
Nota Beny as it was spilt, and went from shop to shop enquirin in a most
partiklar manner for "a Gardner's Bell, or the least of all flowering
plants"; but sorrow a gardner in the whole tot here in London ever had
heard of sic a thing; so we gave the porshoot up in despare. Howsomever,
one of Andrew's acquaintance--a decent lad, who is only son to a saddler
in a been way, that keeps his own carriage, and his son a coryikel,
happent to call, and the Doctor told him what ill socsess we had in our
serch for the gardner's bell; upon which he sought a sight of your
yepissle, and read it as a thing that was just wonderful for its
whorsogroffie; and then he sayid, that looking at the prinsipol of your
spilling, he thought we should reed, "a gardner's bill, or a list of all
flooring plants"; whilk being no doot your intent, I have proqurt the
same, and it is included heerin. But, Miss Mally, I would advize you to
be more exac in your inditing, that no sic torbolashon may hippen on a
future okashon.
What I hav to say for the present is, that you will, by a smak, get a
bocks of kumoddities, whilk you will destraboot as derekit on every on of
them, and you will before have resievit by the post-offis, an account of
what has been don. I need say no forther at this time, knowin your
discreshon and prooduns, septs that our Rachel and Captain Sabor will, if
it pleese the Lord, be off to Parish, by way of Bryton, as man and wife,
the morn's morning. What her father the Doctor gives for tocher, what is
settlt on her for jontor, I will tell you all aboot when we meet; for
it's our dishire noo to lose no tim in retorning to the manse, this being
the last of our diplomaticals in London, where we have found the Argents
a most discrit family, payin to the last farding the Cornal's legacy, and
most seevil, and well bred to us.
As I am naterally gretly okypt with this matteromoneal afair, you cannot
expect ony news; but the queen is going on with a dreadful rat, by which
the pesents hav falen more than a whole entirr pesent. I wish our fonds
were well oot of them, and in yird and stane, which is a constansie. But
what is to become of the poor donsie woman, no one can expound. Some
think she will be pot in the Toor of London, and her head chappit off;
others think she will raise sic a stramash, that she will send the whole
government into the air, like peelings of ingons, by a gunpoother plot.
But it's my opinion, and I have weighed the matter well in my
understanding, that she will hav to fight with sword in hand, be she ill,
or be she good. How els can she hop to get the better of more than two
hundred lords, as the Doctor, who has seen them, tells me, with princes
of the blood-royal, and the prelatic bishops, whom, I need not tell you,
are the worst of all.
But the thing I grudge most, is to be so long in Lundon, and no to see
the king. Is it not a hard thing to come to London, and no to see the
king? I am not pleesed with him, I assure you, becose he does not set
himself out to public view, like ony other curiosity, but stays in his
palis, they say, like one of the anshent wooden images of idolatry, the
which is a great peety, he beeing, as I am told, a beautiful man, and
more the gentleman than all the coortiers of his court.
The Doctor has been minting to me that there is an address from Irvine to
the queen; and he, being so near a neighbour to your toun, has been
thinking to pay his respecs with it, to see her near at hand. But I will
say nothing; he may take his own way in matters of gospel and
spiritualety; yet I have my scroopols of conshence, how this may not turn
out a rebellyon against the king; and I would hav him to sift and see who
are at the address, before he pits his han to it. For, if it's a radikol
job, as I jealoos it is, what will the Doctor then say? who is an
orthodox man, as the world nose.
In the maitre of our dumesticks, no new axsident has cast up; but I have
seen such a wonder as could not have been forethocht. Having a washin, I
went down to see how the lassies were doing; but judge of my feelings,
when I saw them triomphing on the top of pattons, standing upright before
the boyns on chairs, rubbin the clothes to juggins between their hands,
above the sapples, with their gouns and stays on, and round-cared
mutches. What would you think of such a miracle at the washing-house in
the Goffields, or the Gallows-knows of Irvine? The cook, howsomever, has
shown me a way to make rice-puddings without eggs, by putting in a bit of
shoohet, which is as good--and this you will tell Miss Nanny Eydent;
likewise, that the most fashionable way of boiling green pis, is to pit a
blade of spearmint in the pot, which gives a fine flavour. But this is a
long letter, and my pepper is done; so no more, but remains your friend
and well-wisher,
JANET PRINGLE.
"A great legacy, and her dochtir married, in ae journey to London, is
doing business," said Mrs. Glibbans, with a sigh, as she looked to her
only get, Miss Becky; "but the Lord's will is to be done in a'
thing;--sooner or later something of the same kind will come, I trust, to
all our families." "Ay," replied Miss Mally Glencairn, "marriage is like
death--it's what we are a' to come to."
"I have my doubts of that," said Miss Becky with a sneer. "Ye have been
lang spair't from it, Miss Mally."
"Ye're a spiteful puddock; and if the men hae the e'en and lugs they used
to hae, gude pity him whose lot is cast with thine, Becky Glibbans,"
replied the elderly maiden ornament of the Kirkgate, somewhat tartly.
Here Mr. Snodgrass interposed, and said, he would read to them the letter
which Miss Isabella had received from the bride; and without waiting for
their concurrence, opened and read as follows:--
LETTER XXXI
_Mrs. Sabre to Miss Isabella Tod_
MY DEAREST BELL--Rachel Pringle is no more! My heart flutters as I write
the fatal words. This morning, at nine o'clock precisely, she was
conducted in bridal array to the new church of Mary-le-bone; and there,
with ring and book, sacrificed to the Minotaur, Matrimony, who devours so
many of our bravest youths and fairest maidens.
My mind is too agitated to allow me to describe the scene. The office of
handmaid to the victim, which, in our young simplicity, we had fondly
thought one of us would perform for the other, was gracefully sustained
by Miss Argent.
On returning from church to my father's residence in Baker Street, where
we breakfasted, he declared himself not satisfied with the formalities of
the English ritual, and obliged us to undergo a second ceremony from
himself, according to the wonted forms of the Scottish Church. All the
advantages and pleasures of which, my dear Bell, I hope you will soon
enjoy.
But I have no time to enter into particulars. The captain and his lady,
by themselves, in their own carriage, set off for Brighton in the course
of less than an hour. On Friday they are to be followed by a large party
of their friends and relations; and, after spending a few days in that
emporium of salt-water pleasures, they embark, accompanied with their
beloved brother, Mr. Andrew Pringle, for Paris; where they are afterwards
to be joined by the Argents. It is our intention to remain about a month
in the French capital; whether we shall extend our tour, will depend on
subsequent circumstances: in the meantime, however, you will hear
frequently from me.
My mother, who has a thousand times during these important transactions
wished for the assistance of Nanny Eydent, transmits to Miss Mally
Glencairn a box containing all the requisite bridal recognisances for our
Irvine friends. I need not say that the best is for the faithful
companion of my happiest years. As I had made a vow in my heart that
Becky Glibbans should never wear gloves for my marriage, I was averse to
sending her any at all, but my mother insisted that no exceptions should
be made. I secretly took care, however, to mark a pair for her, so much
too large, that I am sure she will never put them on. The asp will be
not a little vexed at the disappointment. Adieu for a time, and believe
that, although your affectionate Rachel Pringle be gone that way in which
she hopes you will soon follow, one not less sincerely attached to you,
though it be the first time she has so subscribed herself, remains in
RACHEL SABRE.
Before the ladies had time to say a word on the subject, the prudent
young clergyman called immediately on Mr. Micklewham to read the letter
which he had received from the Doctor; and which the worthy dominie did
without delay, in that rich and full voice with which he is accustomed to
teach his scholars elocution by example.
LETTER XXXII
_The Rev. Z. Pringle_, _D.D._, _to Mr. Micklewham_, _Schoolmaster and
Session-Clerk_, _Garnock_
LONDON.
Dear Sir--I have been much longer of replying to your letter of the 3rd
of last month, than I ought in civility to have been, but really time, in
this town of London, runs at a fast rate, and the day passes before the
dark's done. What with Mrs. Pringle and her daughter's concernments,
anent the marriage to Captain Sabre, and the trouble I felt myself
obliged to take in the queen's affair, I assure you, Mr. Micklewham, that
it's no to be expressed how I have been occupied for the last four weeks.
But all things must come to a conclusion in this world. Rachel Pringle
is married, and the queen's weary trial is brought to an end--upon the
subject and motion of the same, I offer no opinion, for I made it a point
never to read the evidence, being resolved to stand by THE WORD from the
first, which is clearly and plainly written in the queen's favour, and it
does not do in a case of conscience to stand on trifles; putting,
therefore, out of consideration the fact libelled, and looking both at
the head and the tail of the proceeding, I was of a firm persuasion, that
all the sculduddery of the business might have been well spared from the
eye of the public, which is of itself sufficiently prone to keek and
kook, in every possible way, for a glimpse of a black story; and,
therefore, I thought it my duty to stand up in all places against the
trafficking that was attempted with a divine institution. And I think,
when my people read how their prelatic enemies, the bishops (the heavens
defend the poor Church of Scotland from being subjected to the weight of
their paws), have been visited with a constipation of the understanding
on that point, it must to them be a great satisfaction to know how clear
and collected their minister was on this fundamental of society. For it
has turned out, as I said to Mrs. Pringle, as well as others, it would
do, that a sense of grace and religion would be manifested in some
quarter before all was done, by which the devices for an unsanctified
repudiation or divorce would be set at nought.
As often as I could, deeming it my duty as a minister of the word and
gospel, I got into the House of Lords, and heard the trial; and I cannot
think how ever it was expected that justice could be done yonder; for
although no man could be more attentive than I was, every time I came
away I was more confounded than when I went; and when the trial was done,
it seemed to me just to be clearing up for a proper beginning--all which
is a proof that there was a foul conspiracy. Indeed, when I saw Duke
Hamilton's daughter coming out of the coach with the queen, I never could
think after, that a lady of her degree would have countenanced the queen
had the matter laid to her charge been as it was said. Not but in any
circumstance it behoved a lady of that ancient and royal blood, to be
seen beside the queen in such a great historical case as a trial.
I hope, in the part I have taken, my people will be satisfied; but
whether they are satisfied or not, my own conscience is content with me.
I was in the House of Lords when her majesty came down for the last time,
and saw her handed up the stairs by the usher of the black-rod, a little
stumpy man, wonderful particular about the rules of the House, insomuch
that he was almost angry with me for stopping at the stair-head. The
afflicted woman was then in great spirits, and I saw no symptoms of the
swelled legs that Lord Lauderdale, that jooking man, spoke about, for she
skippit up the steps like a lassie. But my heart was wae for her when
all was over, for she came out like an astonished creature, with a wild
steadfast look, and a sort of something in the face that was as if the
rational spirit had fled away; and she went down to her coach as if she
had submitted to be led to a doleful destiny. Then the shouting of the
people began, and I saw and shouted too in spite of my decorum, which I
marvel at sometimes, thinking it could be nothing less than an
involuntary testification of the spirit within me.
Anent the marriage of Rachel Pringle, it may be needful in me to state,
for the satisfaction of my people, that although by stress of law we were
obligated to conform to the practice of the Episcopalians, by taking out
a bishop's license, and going to their church, and vowing, in a pagan
fashion, before their altars, which are an abomination to the Lord; yet,
when the young folk came home, I made them stand up, and be married again
before me, according to all regular marriages in our national Church.
For this I had two reasons: first, to satisfy myself that there had been
a true and real marriage; and, secondly, to remove the doubt of the
former ceremony being sufficient; for marriage being of divine
appointment, and the English form and ritual being a thing established by
Act of Parliament, which is of human ordination, I was not sure that
marriage performed according to a human enactment could be a fulfilment
of a divine ordinance. I therefore hope that my people will approve what
I have done; and in order that there may be a sympathising with me, you
will go over to Banker M---y, and get what he will give you, as ordered
by me, and distribute it among the poorest of the parish, according to
the best of your discretion, my long absence having taken from me the
power of judgment in a matter of this sort. I wish indeed for the glad
sympathy of my people, for I think that our Saviour turning water into
wine at the wedding, was an example set that we should rejoice and be
merry at the fulfilment of one of the great obligations imposed on us as
social creatures; and I have ever regarded the unhonoured treatment of a
marriage occasion as a thing of evil bodement, betokening heavy hearts
and light purses to the lot of the bride and bridegroom. You will hear
more from me by and by; in the meantime, all I can say is, that when we
have taken our leave of the young folks, who are going to France, it is
Mrs. Pringle's intent, as well as mine, to turn our horses' heads
northward, and make our way with what speed we can, for our own quiet
home, among you. So no more at present from your friend and pastor,
Z. PRINGLE.
Mrs. Tod, the mother of Miss Isabella, a respectable widow lady, who had
quiescently joined the company, proposed that they should now drink
health, happiness, and all manner of prosperity, to the young couple; and
that nothing might be wanting to secure the favourable auspices of good
omens to the toast, she desired Miss Isabella to draw fresh bottles of
white and red. When all manner of felicity was duly wished in wine to
the captain and his lady, the party rose to seek their respective homes.
But a bustle at the street-door occasioned a pause. Mrs. Tod inquired
the matter; and three or four voices at once replied, that an express had
come from Garnock for Nanse Swaddle the midwife, Mrs. Craig being taken
with her pains. "Mr. Snodgrass," said Mrs. Glibbans, instantly and
emphatically, "ye maun let me go with you, and we can spiritualise on the
road; for I hae promis't Mrs. Craig to be wi' her at the crying, to see
the upshot--so I hope you will come awa."
It would be impossible in us to suppose, that Mr. Snodgrass had any
objections to spiritualise with Mrs. Glibbans on the road between Irvine
and Garnock; but, notwithstanding her urgency, he excused himself from
going with her; however, he recommended her to the special care and
protection of Mr. Micklewham, who was at that time on his legs to return
home. "Oh! Mr. Snodgrass," said the lady, looking slyly, as she
adjusted her cloak, at him and Miss Isabella, "there will be marrying and
giving in marriage till the day of judgment." And with these oracular
words she took her departure.