~45~~
...” What 'tis
To Have a stranger come--
It seems you know him not
No, sir! not I.”
--Southey.
“Either forbear... or resolve you
For more amazement: if you can behold it,
I'll make the statue move indeed.”
--Winter's Tale.
“Since the youth will not be entreated, his own peril on his
forwardness.... You shall try but one fall.”
--_As You Like It_.
ON reaching home the door was opened by Thomas, who accosted us with:--
“Here's such a bit of fun, gentlemen! The new pupil's arrived, and ain't
he a rum un, jest? Oh, I never!”
~47~~“Why, how do you mean? what's he like, then?” asked Lawless.
“Oh, he's very well to look at, only he's as tall as a life-guardsman;
but he's sich a free and easy chap, and ain't he got a pretty good
notion of making himself comfortable, too!--that's all. But come in,
gents, you'll soon see what I mean. He chucked the flyman who brought
him here half a guinea, and when I asked him if he did not want the
change, for the fare was only half a crown, he merely said 'Pooh!' and
told me not to talk, for it tired him.”
With our feelings of curiosity somewhat excited by this account we
hastened into the pupils' room, anxious to behold the individual who had
so greatly astonished Thomas.
Seated in Dr. Mildman's arm-chair, and with his legs resting upon two
other chairs, so arranged as to form a temporary sofa, reclined a young
man, apparently about eighteen, though his length of limb, and the
almost herculean proportions of his chest and shoulders, seemed rather
to belong to a more advanced age. He raised his head as we entered,
disclosing a set of features which, in spite of an expression of languor
and indifference, must have been pronounced unusually handsome. His
complexion was a rich nut-brown; the high forehead, white as snow,
contrasting well with the dark hue of his hair, which, in short
clustering curls, harmonised well with the classical outline of his
head, reminding one involuntarily of the young Antinous. The short
curling upper-lip, and well-chiselled nostril, told a tale of pride and
resolution, strongly at variance with the mild sleepy appearance of the
large dark hazel eyes, to which the long silken lashes that shaded them
imparted an almost feminine expression. He did not attempt to alter his
position as we approached, but, merely turning his head, gazed at us
steadfastly for a moment, and then observed in a slow, half-absent
manner:--
“Oh, the other pupils, I suppose--how do you do, all of you?”
Lawless, who was foremost, was so much surprised, and so little pleased
at this nonchalant style of address, that he made no reply, but turning
on his heel proceeded to leave the room, in order to divest himself of
his hunting costume, muttering as he went, “Cool enough that, by Jove,
eh!”
The duty of doing the polite having thus devolved upon Coleman, he
winked at me by way of preliminary, and, ~48~~making a low bow in the
true dancing-master style, replied as follows:--
“Your penetration has not erred, Mr. Oaklands; we _are_ the other
pupils; and in answer to your obliging inquiries, I have much pleasure
in informing you that we are all in perfect health and very tolerable
spirits; and now, sir, in return for your kind condescension, allow me,
in the absence of my superiors, to express a hope that you are feeling
pretty comfortable--ahem!”
Having thus delivered himself, Coleman drew up his figure to its utmost
height, and, folding his arms with an air of pompous dignity, awaited an
answer.
“Oh yes, I'm comfortable enough,” was the reply; “I always am; only I'm
so done up, tired as a dog--the least thing fatigues me; I'm as weak as
a rat! Don't they give you sofas here, Mr. What's-your-name?”
“My name is Norval--I mean Coleman; my father divides his time between
feeding his flocks on the Grampian Hills, and fleecing his clients in
Lincoln's Inn; though I must confess that ever since I can remember, he
has dropped the shepherd, and stuck to the solicitor, finding it pays
best, I suppose. Regarding the sofa, we have not one at present, but Dr.
Mildman went to town this morning; I did not till this moment know why.
But now I see it all--he was doubtless aware you would arrive to-day,
and, finding he could not get a sufficiently comfortable sofa for you
in Helmstone, he is gone to London on purpose to procure one. There is
still time to write by the post, if there is any particular way in which
you would like to have the stuffing arranged.”
This speech made Oaklands raise his head, and look Coleman so fixedly in
the face, with such a clear, earnest, penetrating gaze, that it appeared
as if he would read his very soul. Having apparently satisfied himself,
he smiled slightly, resumed his former attitude, and observed in the
same half-sleepy tone:--
“No, I'll leave all that to him; I am not particular. What time do you
dine here?”
I replied (for the look I have described seemed to have had the
wonderful effect of silencing Coleman), “At five o'clock”.
“Very good; and I believe there's a Mrs. Mildman, or some such person,
is there not? I suppose one must dress. Will you be so kind as to tell
the servant to bring some hot water, and to look out my things for me at
a quarter before five? I hate to be obliged to hurry, it tires one so.”
~49~~Having said this, he took up a book which was lying by his side,
and, murmuring something about “talking being so fatiguing,” soon became
buried in its contents.
Whilst I was dressing for dinner Lawless came into my room, and told me
that he had been speaking to Cumberland with regard to the way in which
he had behaved to me about the mare, and that Cumberland professed
himself exceedingly sorry that the affair had so nearly turned out a
serious one, declaring he meant it quite as a joke, never expecting that
when I saw the mare I should venture to mount her.
“So you see,” continued Lawless, “he merely wanted to have a good laugh
at you--nothing more. It was a thoughtless thing to do, but not so bad
as you had fancied it, by any means.”
“Well,” replied I, “as he says so, I am bound to believe him; but his
manner certainly gave me the impression that he intended me to ride her.
He went the right way to make me do so, at all events, by hinting that I
was afraid.”
“Ah! he could not know that by intuition, you see,” said Lawless; “he
thought, I daresay, as I did, that you were a mere molly-coddle, brought
up at your mother's apron-string, and had not pluck enough in you to do
anything sporting.”
“It's not worth saying anything more about,” replied I; “it will never
happen again: I am very much obliged to you, though.”
“Oh, that's nothing,” said Lawless; “if Cumberland had really meant to
break your neck, I should have fallen out with him; that would have been
too much of a good thing: however, as it is it's all right.”
And so the conversation ended, though I felt far from satisfied in my
own mind as to the innocence of Cumberland's intentions.
On reaching the drawing-room I found the whole party assembled with the
exception of Mr. Henry Oaklands, who had not yet made his appearance.
At the moment of my entrance Mrs. Mildman, who had not seen the new
arrival, and who, like the rest of her sex, was somewhat curious, was
examining Coleman (who stood bolt upright before her, with his hands
behind him, looking like a boy saying his lesson) as to his manners and
appearance.
“Very tall, and dark hair and large eyes,” continued Mrs. Mildman; “why,
he must be very handsome.”
“He seems as if he were half-asleep,” observed I.
~50~~“Not always,” said Coleman; “did you see the look he gave me? he
seemed wide-awake enough then; I thought he was going to eat me.”
“Dear me I why he must be quite a cannibal! besides, I don't think you
would be at all nice to eat, Mr. Coleman,” said Mrs. Mildman, with a
smile.
“Horrid nasty, I'm sure,” muttered Mullins, who was seated on the very
edge of his chair, and looked thoroughly uncomfortable, as was his wont
in anything like civilised society.
At this moment the door opened, and Oaklands entered. If one had doubted
about his height before, when lying on the chairs, the question was set
at rest the instant he was seen standing: he must have measured at
least six feet two inches, though the extreme breadth of his chest
and shoulders, and the graceful setting-on of his finely formed
head, together with the perfect symmetry and proportion of his limbs,
prevented his appearing too tall. He went through the ceremony of
introduction with the greatest ease and self-possession; and though he
infused rather more courtesy into his manner towards Mrs. Mildman
than he had taken the trouble to bestow on us, his behaviour was still
characterised by the same indolence and listlessness I had previously
noticed, and which indeed seemed part and parcel of himself. Having
bowed slightly to Cumberland and Lawless he seated himself very
leisurely on the sofa by Mrs. Mildman's side, altering one of the
pillows so as to make himself thoroughly comfortable as he did so.
Having settled it to his satisfaction, he addressed Mrs. Mildman with:--
“What a very fatiguing day this has been; haven't you found it so?”
“No, I can't say I have,” was the reply; “I daresay it was warm
travelling: I'm afraid, in that case, Dr. Mildman will not have a very
pleasant journey--he's gone to town to-day.”
“Ah, so that short, stout young gentleman” (the first two adjectives he
pronounced very slowly and distinctly) “told me.”
“Mr. Coleman,” insinuated Mrs. Mildman.
“Pleasant that,” whispered Coleman to me.
“Take care,” replied I, “he will hear you.”
“I'm afraid,” continued Oaklands, “the old gentleman will be quite
knocked up. I wonder he does not make two days' journey of it.”
“Dr. Mildman is not so _very_ old,” observed Mrs. Mildman, in rather an
annoyed tone of voice.
~51~~“I really beg pardon, I scarcely know why I said it,” replied
Oaklands, “only I somehow fancied all tutors were between sixty and
seventy--very absurd of me. My father sent all kind of civil messages
to the o---- to Dr. Mildman, only it is so much trouble to remember that
sort of thing.”
At this point the conversation was interrupted by the announcement of
dinner. Oaklands (from whom I could not withdraw my eyes, so unlike
anything I had ever met with before was he) was evidently preparing to
hand Mrs. Mildman down to dinner, as soon as he could summon
sufficient energy to move, but, perceiving Cumberland approach her for
that purpose, he appeared to recollect himself, smiled slightly as if at
what he had been about to do, and, taking me by the arm, said:--
“Come, Master Curlylocks, you shall be my lady, and a very pretty girl
you would make, too, if you were properly bemuslined”; adding, as we
went downstairs together, “You and I shall be great friends, I'm sure;
I like your face particularly. What a lot of stairs there are in this
house! they'll tire me to death.”
When we returned to the pupils' room after dinner Lawless found, lying
on the table, the note Dr. Mildman had written in such a mysterious
manner before he left home in the morning, and proceeded to open it
forthwith. Scarcely had he glanced his eye over it, when he was seized
with so violent a fit of laughter, that I expected every moment to see
him fall out of his chair. As soon as he had in some measure recovered
the power of speaking he exclaimed:--
“Here, listen to this! and tell me if it is not the very best thing you
ever heard in your lives “. He then read as follows:--
“'It is not without much pain that I bring myself to write this note;
but I feel that I should not be doing my duty towards your excellent
father, if I were to allow such extreme misconduct on the part of
his son to pass unreproved. I know not towards what scene of vulgar
dissipation you might be directing your steps, but the simple fact
(to which I was myself witness) of your leaving my house _in the low
disguise of a carter's smock-frock_, affords in itself sufficient proof
that your associates must belong to a class of persons utterly unfitted
for the companionship of a gentleman. Let me hope this hint may be
enough, and that conduct so thoroughly disgraceful in one brought up as
you have been may not occur again. I presume I need scarcely say that,
in the event of your ~52~~disregarding my wishes upon this point, the
only course left open to me would be to expel you, a measure to which it
would deeply grieve me to be obliged to resort.'”
His voice was here drowned by a chorus of laughter from all present
who were aware of the true state of the case, which lasted without
interruption for several minutes. At length Lawless observed:--
“I'll tell you what, it will be a death-blow to Smithson; a Macintosh
made by him to be taken for a smock-frock! he'll never recover it.”
“Mildman might well look like a thunder-cloud,” said Coleman, “if that
was the notion he had got in his head; what a jolly lark, to be sure!”
“How do you mean to undeceive him?” inquired Cumberland.
“Oh, trust me for finding a way to do that,” replied Lawless; “'the low
disguise of a carter's smock-frock,' indeed! What fun it would be if
he were to meet my governor in town to-day, and tell him of my evil
courses! why, the old boy would go into fits! I wonder what he means
by his 'scenes of vulgar dissipation'? I daresay he fancies me playing
all-fours with a beery coalheaver, and kissing his sooty-faced wife; or
drinking alternate goes of gin-and-water with a dustman for the purpose
of insinuating myself into the affections of Miss Cinderella Smut, his
interesting sister. By Jove! it's as good as a play!”
More laughter followed Lawless's illustration of Dr. Mildman's note.
The subject was discussed for some time, and a plan arranged for
enlightening the Doctor as to the true character of the mysterious
garment.
At length there was a pause, when I heard Coleman whisper to Lawless:--
“Thomas was pretty right in saying that new fellow knows how to make
himself comfortable, at all events”.
“He's a precious deal too free and easy to please me,” muttered Lawless,
in an undertone; “I shall take the liberty of seeing whether his
self-possession cannot be disturbed a little. I have no notion of such
airs. Here, Mullins!”
And laying hold of Mullins by the arm, he pulled him into a chair by
his side, and proceeded to give him some instructions in a whisper. The
subject of their remarks, Harry Oaklands, who had, on re-entering the
room, taken possession of the three chairs near the window, was still
reclining, book in hand, in the same indolent position, apparently
enjoying the beauty of the autumnal sunset, without concerning himself
in the slightest degree about anything which might be going on inside
the room.
~53~~Lawless, whose proceedings I was watching with an anxious eye,
having evidently succeeded, by a judicious mixture of bullying and
cajollery, in persuading Mullins to assist him in whatever he was about
to attempt, now drew a chair to the other side of the window, and seated
himself exactly opposite to Oaklands.
“How tired riding makes a fellow! I declare I'm regularly baked, used
completely up,” he observed, and then continued, glancing at Oaklands,
“Not such a bad idea, that. Mullins, give us a chair; I don't see why
elevating the extremities should not pay in my case, as well as in other
people's.”
He then placed his legs across the chair which Mullins brought him, and,
folding his arms so as exactly to imitate the attitude of his opposite
neighbour, sat for some minutes gazing out of the window with a
countenance of mock solemnity. Finding this did not produce any effect
on Oaklands, who, having slightly raised his eyes when Lawless first
seated himself, immediately cast them upon the book again, Lawless
stretched himself, yawned, and once more addressed Mullins.
“Shocking bad sunset as ever I saw--it's no go staring at that. I must
have a book--give me the Byron.”
To this Mullins replied that he believed Mr. Oaklands was reading it.
“Indeed! the book belongs to you, does it not?”
Mullins replied in the affirmative.
“Have you any objection to lend it to me?”
Mullins would be most happy to do so.
“Then ask the gentleman to give it to you--you have a right to do what
you please with your own property, I imagine?”
It was very evident that this suggestion was not exactly agreeable to
Mullins; and although his habitual fear of Lawless was so strong
as completely to overpower any dread of what might be the possible
consequences of his act, it was not without much hesitation that he
approached Oaklands, and asked him for the book, as he wished to lend it
to Lawless.
On hearing this Oaklands leisurely turned to the fly-leaf, and, having
apparently satisfied himself, by the perusal of the name written
thereon, that it really belonged to Mullins, handed it to him without a
word. I fancied, however, from the stern expression of his mouth and a
slight contraction of the brow, that he was not as insensible to their
impertinence as he wished to appear.
Lawless, who had been sitting during this little scene ~54~~with his
eyes closed, as if asleep, now roused himself, and saying, “Oh, you have
got it at last, have you?” began turning over the pages, reading aloud a
line or two here and there, while he kept up a running commentary on the
text as he did so:--
“Hum! ha! now let's see, here we are--the 'g-i-a-o-u-r,'--that's a
nice word to talk about. What does g-i-a-o-u-r spell, Mullins? You don't
know? what an ass you are, to be sure!--
'Fair clime, whose every season smiles
Benignant o'er those blessed isles'--
blessed isles, indeed; what stuff!--
''Tis Greece, but living Greece no more;'
that would do for a motto for the barbers to stick on their pots of
bear's grease!--
'Clime of the unforgotten brave;'
_unforgotten_! yes, I should think so; how the deuce should they be
forgotten, when one is bored with them morning, noon, and night, for
everlasting, by old Sam, and all the other pastors and masters in the
kingdom? Hang me, if I can read this trash; the only poetry that ever
was written worth reading is 'Don Juan'.”
He then flung the book down, adding:--
“It's confoundedly cold, I think. Mullins, shut that window.”
This order involved more difficulties in its execution than might at
first be imagined. Oaklands, after giving up the book, had slightly
altered his position by drawing nearer the window and leaning his elbow
on the sill, so that it was impossible to shut it without obliging him
to move. Mullins saw this, and seemed for a moment inclined not to obey,
but a look and a threatening gesture from Lawless again decided him; and
with slow unwilling steps he approached the window, and laid his hand
on it, for the purpose of shutting it. As he did so, Oaklands raised his
head, and regarded him for a moment with a glance like lightning, his
large eyes glaring in the twilight like those of some wild animal, while
the red flush of anger rose to his brow, and we all expected to see him
strike Mullins to the ground. Conquering himself, however, by a powerful
effort of self-control, he folded his arms, and, turning from the
window, suffered Mullins to close it without interruption. Still I could
perceive, from ~55~~the distended nostril and quivering lip, that his
forbearance was almost exhausted.
“Ah, that's an improvement,” said Lawless; “I was getting uncommonly
chilly. By the way, what an interesting virtue patience is; it is a
curious fact in Natural History that some of the lower animals share it
with us; for instance, there's nothing so patient as a jack-ass----”
“Except a pig,” put in Mullins; “they're uncommon--”
“Obstinate,” suggested Coleman.
“Oh, ah! it's obstinate I mean,” replied Mullins. “Well, you know
donkeys are obstinate, like a pig; that's what I meant.”
“Don't be a fool,” said Lawless. “Deuce take these chairs, I cannot make
myself comfortable anyhow--the fact is, I must have three, that's the
proper number--give me another, Mullins.”
“I can't find one,” was the answer; “they are all in use.”
“Can't find one! nonsense,” said Lawless; “here, take one of these; the
gentleman is asleep, and won't object, I daresay.”
When Mullins was shutting the window his head had been so turned as
to prevent his observing the symptoms of anger in Oaklands, which
had convinced me that he would not bear trifling with much longer.
Presuming, therefore, from the success of his former attacks, that the
new pupil was a person who might be insulted with impunity, and actuated
by that general desire of retaliation, which is the certain effect
bullying produces upon a mean disposition, Mullins proceeded, _con
amore_, to fulfil Lawless's injunction. With a sudden snatch he withdrew
the centre chair, on which Oaklands' legs mainly rested, so violently
as nearly to throw them to the ground, a catastrophe which was finally
consummated by Lawless giving the other chair a push with his foot, so
that it was only by great exertion and quickness that Oaklands was able
to save himself from falling.
This was the climax; forbearance merely human could endure no
longer: Lawless had obtained his object of disturbing Harry Oaklands'
self-possession, and was now to learn the consequences of his success.
With a bound like that of an infuriated tiger, Oaklands leaped upon
his feet, and, dashing Mullins into a corner with such force that he
remained lying exactly where he fell, he sprang upon Lawless, seized him
by the collar of his coat, and after a short but severe struggle dragged
him to the ~56~~window, which was about eight feet from the ground,
threw it open, and taking him in his arms with as much ease as if he
had been a child flung him out. He then returned to the corner in which,
paralysed with fear, Mullins was still crouching, drew him to the spot
from whence he had removed the chair, placed him there upon his hands
and knees, and saying, in a stern voice, “If you dare to move till I
tell you, I'll throw you out of the window too,” quietly resumed his
former position, with his legs resting upon Mullins' back instead of a
chair.
[Illustration: page56 Lawless Finds his Level]
As soon as Coleman and I had in some degree recovered from our surprise
and consternation (for the anger of Oaklands once roused was a fearful
thing to behold), we ran to the other window, just in time to see
Lawless, who had alighted among some stunted shrubs, turn round and
shake his fist at Oaklands (who merely smiled), ere he regained his
feet, and rang the bell in order to gain admittance. A minute afterwards
we heard him stride upstairs, enter his bedroom, and close the door with
a most sonorous bang. Affairs remained in this position nearly a quarter
of an hour, no one feeling inclined to be the first to speak. At
length the silence was broken by Oaklands, who, addressing himself to
Cumberland, said:--
“I am afraid this absurd piece of business has completely marred the
harmony of the evening. Get up, Mr. Mullins,” he continued, removing his
legs, and assisting him to rise; “I hope I did not hurt you just now.”
In reply to this Mullins grumbled out something intended as a negative,
and, shambling across the room, placed himself in a corner, as far as
possible from Oaklands, where he sat rubbing his knees, the very image
of sulkiness and terror. Cumberland, who appeared during the whole
course of the affair absorbed in a book, though, in fact, not a single
word or look had escaped him, now came forward and apologised, in a
quiet, gentlemanly manner (which, when he was inclined, no one could
assume with greater success), for Lawless's impertinence, which had
only, he said, met with its proper reward.
“You must excuse me, Mr. Cumberland, if I cannot agree with you,”
replied Oaklands; “since I have had time to cool a little, I see the
matter in quite a different light. Mr. Lawless was perfectly right;
the carelessness of my manner must naturally have seemed as if I were
purposely giving myself airs, but I can assure you such was not the
case.”
He paused for a moment, and then continued, with a half-embarrassed
smile:--
~57~~“The fact is, I am afraid that I have been spoiled at home; my
mother died when I was a little child, and my dear father, having nobody
else to care about, thought, I believe, that there was no one in the
world equal to me, and that nothing was too good for me. Of course, all
our servants and people have taken their tone from him, so that I have
never had any one to say to me, 'Nay,' and am therefore not at all used
to the sort of thing. I hope I do not often lose my temper as I have
done this evening; but really Mr. Lawless appears quite an adept in the
art of ingeniously tormenting.”
“I am afraid you must have found so much exertion very fatiguing,”
observed Coleman, politely.
“A fair hit, Mr. Coleman,” replied Oaklands, laughing. “No! those are
not the things that tire me, somehow; but in general I am very easily
knocked up--I am indeed--most things are so much trouble, and I hate
trouble; I suppose it is that I am not strong.”
“Wretchedly weak, I should say,” rejoined Coleman; “it struck me that
you were so just now, when you chucked Lawless out of the window like a
cat.”
“Be quiet, Freddy,” said Cumberland, reprovingly.
“Nay, don't stop him,” said Oaklands; “I delight in a joke beyond
measure, when I have not the trouble of making it myself. But about this
Mr. Lawless, I am exceedingly sorry that I handled him so roughly; would
you mind going to tell him so, Mr. Cumberland, and explaining that I did
not mean anything offensive by my manner?”
“Exactly, I'll make him understand the whole affair, and bring him down
with me in five minutes,” said Cumberland, leaving the room as he spoke.
“What makes Cumberland so good-natured and amiable to-night?” whispered
I to Coleman.
“Can't you tell?” was the reply. “Don't you see that Oaklands is a
regular top-sawyer, a fish worth catching; and that by doing this,
Cumberland places him under an obligation at first starting? Not a bad
move to begin with, eh? Besides, if a regular quarrel between Lawless
and Oaklands were to ensue, Cumberland would have to take one side or
the other; and it would not exactly suit him to break with Lawless, he
knows too much about him; besides,” added he, sinking his voice, “he
owes him money, more than I should like to owe anybody a precious deal,
I can tell you. Now, do you _twig_?”
“Yes,” said I, “I comprehend the matter more clearly, if that is what
you mean by _twigging_; but how shocking ~58~~it all is! why, Cumberland
is quite a swindler--gambling, borrowing money he can't pay, and----”
“Hush!” interrupted Coleman, “here they come.”
Coleman was not mistaken: Cumberland had been successful in his embassy,
and now entered the room, accompanied by Lawless, who looked rather
crestfallen, somewhat angry, and particularly embarrassed and
uncomfortable, which, as Coleman whispered to me, was not to be wondered
at, considering how thoroughly he had been _put out_ just before.
Oaklands, however, appeared to see nothing of all this; but, rising from
his seat as they entered, he approached Lawless, saying:--
“This has been a foolish piece of business, Mr. Lawless; I freely own
that I am thoroughly ashamed of the part I have taken in it, and I can
only apologise for the intemperate manner in which I behaved.”
The frank courtesy with which he said this was so irresistible, that
Lawless was completely overcome, and, probably for the first time in
his life, felt himself thoroughly in the wrong. Seizing Oaklands' hand,
therefore, and shaking it heartily, he replied:--
“I'll tell you what it is, Oaklands--we don't Mr. each other here--you
are a right good fellow--a regular brick, and no mistake; and as to
your shoving me out of the window, you served me quite right for my
abominable impertinence. I only wonder you did not do it ten minutes
sooner, that's all; but you really ought to be careful what you do with
those arms of yours; I was like a child in your grasp; you are as strong
as a steam engine.”
“I can assure you I am not,” replied Oaklands; “they never let me do
anything at home, for fear I should knock myself up.”
“You are more likely to knock other people down, I should say,” rejoined
Lawless; “and, by the way, that reminds me--Mullins! come here, stupid,
and beg Mr. Oaklands' pardon, and thank him for knocking you down.”
A sulky, half-muttered “shan't,” was the only reply.
“Nay, I don't want anything of that kind; I don't indeed, Lawless; pray
leave him alone,” cried Oaklands eagerly.
But Lawless was not so easily quieted, and Oaklands, unwilling to
risk the harmony so newly established between them, did not choose to
interfere further; so Mullins was dragged across the room by the ears,
and was forced by Lawless, who stood over him with the poker (which, he
informed him, he was destined to eat red-hot if he became restive),
to make Oaklands a long and ~59~~formal apology, with a short form of
thanksgiving appended, for the kindness and condescension he had evinced
in knocking him down so nicely, of which oration he delivered himself
with a very bad grace indeed.
“And all went merry as a marriage-bell,” until we were summoned to
the drawing-room, where we were regaled with weak tea, thin bread and
butter, and small conversation till ten o'clock, when Mrs. Mildman
proceeded to read prayers, which, being a duty she was little accustomed
to, and which consequently rendered her extremely nervous, she did
not accomplish without having twice called King William, George, and
suppressed our gracious Queen Adelaide altogether.