“The father a small shopkeeper in Baden, sir; children's toys, nut-crackers, and paper-knives being the staple of his riches. Foglass can tell you all about it. He wants to hear about those Daltons,” screamed he into the deaf man's ear.
“Poor as Job—has n't sixpence—lives 'three-pair back,' and dines for a 'zwanziger.' Lame daughter makes something by cutting heads for canes and umbrellas. He picks up a trifle about the hotels.”
“Ach Gott! and I was so near be in loaf wid de sister!” muttered the Pole.
“She is likely to d-d-do better, Count,” cackled in Purvis. “She caught her Tartar——ha, ha, ha!”
“Midchekoff doesn't mean marriage, sir, depend upon it,” said Haggerstone.
“Martha, leave the room, my dear,” said Mrs. Ricketts, bridling. “He could no more relish a pleasure without a vice than he could dine without caviare.”
“But they are be-be-betrothed,” cried Purvis. “I saw a letter with an account of the ceremony. Midchekoff fitted up a beautiful chapel at his villa, and there was a Greek priest came sp-epecial from M-M-M-Moscow—”
“I thought you were going to say from the moon, sir; and it would be almost as plausible,” croaked Haggerstone.
“I saw the letter. It was n't shown to me, but I saw it; and it was that woman from Breslau gave her away.”
“What! old Madame Heidendorf? She has assisted at a great many similar ceremonies before, sir.”