"But I was. I suppose I ought to know if any man does. However, Eliza, if you want a new hat, anything up to half a sovereign, you've only to say it."
She said it, thanked me, and asked me to come and help her water the spiraea.
"It's such a shapely spiraea," she said.
"Yes," I answered sadly, "it's a regular plant." And so it was, though I had not been intending what the French call a double entendre at the time.
THE MOPWORTHS
I must say that both Eliza and myself felt a good deal of contempt for the Mopworths. We had known them for three years, and that gave us a claim; Peter Mopworth was a connection of Eliza's by marriage, and that also gave us a claim; further, our social position gave us a claim. Nevertheless, the Mopworths were to have their annual party on the following Wednesday, and they had not invited us.
"Upon my soul," I exclaimed, "I never in my life heard of anything so absolutely paltry."
"I can't think why it is," said Eliza.
"Oh, we're not good enough for them. We all know who his father was, and we all know what he is—a petty provincial shopkeeper! A gentleman holding important employment in one of the principal mercantile firms in the city isn't good enough for him. If I'm permitted to clean his boots I'm sure I ought to be thankful. Oh, yes! Of course! No doubt!"