"HERE is Willis to see us," said Mrs. Hopkinson, from her position in the window, to her two girls who were and reading at the end of the room. The girls looked at each other with a of dismay. Willis was not a favourite; he had married their step-sister, and it was a great thing for the Hopkinsons, when Mr. Willis of Columbia House, which of a and an entrance drive, a and a paddock, and a two-stalled stable, and every of magnificence, married Mary Smith, who at No. 2, without a of her own, and on her step-father for a home. So when she Mrs. Willis of Columbia House, and of Fenchurch Street, where Mr. Willis some that appeared to produce a large return of profit, the Hopkinsons her a very woman, and so she herself, till she out that she had married a man who was by a grumbler. He had a for being a victim; when he was single, he for a wife, and when he had a wife, he for the of a bachelor. He for an to Columbia Lodge, and when the was he the child was and sickly. In short, he Mrs. Willis out of the world, and then at her for dying. But still her death was a to him. He took up the high line, was at all hours and in all the mourner, a permanent his hat, a black in the city, and a one when he out. He himself "serious," and proved it by his friends when they were prosperous, and to take the in their adversities.
"What were their to his? A man–ah! Mary! don't talk to him of indeed!" Certainly, though he might be the very good man he said he was, he was not an companion. His sisters-in-law were in that opinion. Mrs. Hopkinson took him at his own valuation, always called him "poor Willis" from respect to Mary's memory, and him of the of his child, which him to over the he had of his angel's to her mother.
"I wonder what Willis will say, girls, when he that Pleasance is let?"
"Something very unpleasant, mamma," answered Janet.
"Oh, my dears, you are hard upon Willis! I am sure when I think of my dear Mary (what a wife she was to be sure!) I respect her dear husband's and sighs."
"But, mamma, don't you just after Mary had him, and he came to ask for your consent, you said that he looked so gloomy, and so deeply, that it was more like to a than a wedding?"
"Did I?" said Mrs. Hopkinson, trying not to laugh. "Well, he was much in the line; but don't talk of it, for here he is. Well, Willis, Charlie is a little to-day; and only think, Pleasance is let!"
"Of it is," answered a voice.
"Well, it is a sweet place! one can't wonder at taking it; but it has empty a long time."
"That I don't about, that is Randall's loss; but as I liked to my cigar there in peace, and to take my by the river side, and as it my child to play in the garden–in short, as it was a of to me –of somebody else and took it, that's all!"
Janet and Rose to catch their mother's eye, but she was looking at Willis, the of Pleasance.
"It is a Lord Something who has taken it. Mercy me, what a I have, I nothing! What was his name? It was one of our great towns, Lord Leeds, Lord York, Lord Birmingham–could it be either of those?"
"As there are no such people I should think not. I do wish, Mrs. H., I you to read the 'Peerage' a little more, these me."
"Law, Willis, you'll be a if you me to read it at all. You might as well ask me to read a list of Red Morocco Chiefs," (Mrs. Hopkinson somehow that the Morocco population was scarlet). "I am just as likely to see them as all those you are always studying."
"My are of a more class," he said tartly; "the 'Peerage' is not of much use to a heart. But I see nothing to be proud of in on any subject!"
Mrs. Hopkinson was in a reverie. "Chester!" she said at last, with a start that Mr. Willis into an of a headache, "Lord Chester, that was the name!"
"Viscount Chester, son of the Earl of Chesterton, married last year to Blanche, of the Honourable W. Grenville. I met them this at the Lord Mayor's dinner. More of fashion you see, all jewels, and laughter, and levity. Oh of vanities!"
"Oh fun of fun!" Rose. "A couple. How I am! I say they will give parties and breakfasts, and there will be the lane, a sometimes on the lawn. It will put you in spirits, Charles," she added, with a look.
He his on his hands with a look of suffering.
"Got the headache, Charles?"
"One more or less makes little to me. I ought to have the headache. Have none of you out who that macaw? It has been all day."
Now it is a in natural history that in all the of London, of houses, called by 'small and elegant,' or on Terraces as first-rate dwellings, there always is an macaw, the or in a of irritation. Nobody at Dulham owned to having one, and was impossible, for there, as at all the villages, the by, and for, and with London. The men daily to their offices or counting-houses, and the for on long visits from London friends and relations; and they did not, as they with much pride, "visit at Dulham." So the Macaw on, and as his noise to come from fifty houses at once, of this atrocity. No. 3 sent to No. 5 to that the bird might be up for a days, as No. 3's did nothing but start, and would not wean. No. 3's messenger met No. 5's maid-of-all-work, with a that the might be sent away, as "Missus's mother-in-law was to headaches, and was mad." As neither of the parties owned a linnet, in the way of bird, the was not by this negotiation.
At one time there to be a that the was discovered. A singular-looking old lady walked into church with a of parrot's in her bonnet. There was a of through the church and a low of "macaw." The lady was looked upon with such that nobody would offer her a seat, and as for a book or a hassock, money would not have them for her. The old thing might have away in the if the pew-opener had not to her her own three-legged stool. It out that she was a in the place, and had the very Mr. Bosville for the popular of that name, who at a church five miles off. As she was deaf, she away with the sermon. And the on anonymously.
He was a to Mr. Willis; it was a daily and hourly grievance, and he the most of it. This morning, after sighs, he with a look at his child and a ejaculation, "Poor little sufferer!" but in the afternoon, when the girls were out walking, Mrs. Hopkinson was to see him return, his black up to the very top button, not a of white visible. This always a visit and much good advice.
"Look, ma'am, look there!" and he presented her with a paper of a character.
"Law, my dear, the Weekly Lyre! Thank you, I read any of those papers. Do it away for the girls should see it."
"For the of the girls, ma'am, you must read the paragraph I have marked."
Mrs. Hopkinson was to put on her she touched what she looked upon as poison. She had a pair of dark green that to the Weekly Lyre. A black border, the work of Willis, the paragraph:–
"FRACAS IN HIGH LIFE.–It is our to report the of a and couple, at the of Hymen we some months ago. Whether the of the lady or the of the has about this dénouement we are unable to say. Rumours of all are rife–a and a not one hundred miles from London are the of anecdotes. Whether the last is by his Lordship's wife, or his chère amie, we to say."
"Well, ma'am, what do you say to that?" asked Willis, his arms, and looking as like John Kemble as was feasible.
"Well, my dear, it is not much than paragraphs I have read in the most papers–I have like that in the Illustrated. It is odd that the will have 'Fracaws, and chère amies, and anecdotes,' but I in our class of life we have the same things, only with English names. Not that John and I had a fracaw, thank goodness; but I am much to you, Willis, for the of the paper, and you had put it in your pocket, for the girls should come home."
"But don't you see, ma'am, what it means? Was not Lord Chester's marriage in this very paper six months ago? Isn't he going to a court? and hasn't he taken a not one hundred miles from London–and is not a lady name is unknown to live in it? A neighbour for you, Mrs. Hopkinson."
"Oh, goodness, Willis, you don't to say that Lord Chester is going to his next door, and our looking on the lawn–in Dulham too! Such a quiet, proper place! Let me have another look at that paper! It must be so. What shall I do?"
"Bear the misfortune, ma'am–cheerfully as I do. Luckily my house is a mile off."
"And we are under the very of Pleasance. I'll have the of that window and at once; the house will be as dark as pitch, but that can't be helped. Good-bye, Willis, I must be off to take my precautions. This is a business!"
Willis off his paper with something that would have been a if he had not been Willis, and Mrs. Hopkinson set to work to up her against the of the nobility.
In to the Weekly Lyre, it may be added that the paragraph in question had no to Lord and Lady Chester, to any other Lord and Lady in Her Majesty's dominions; it was a stock paragraph occasionally, and with variations, when the was for news.
