“Mr. and Mrs. ***,” replied the captain, who, from his attention to the inquirer, appeared to have the honour of her acquaintance.
“Don’t know them,” said the gentleman; then turning to the lady, whom I judged to be his wife, “do you know them?”
“I am sure I never heard their names before,” said the lady, tossing up her head.
“Mrs. *** and two children,” continued the captain.
“The wife of that vulgar auctioneer,” remarked the lady, “that wanted to outdo everybody. Well, she will find a sad change; her husband has failed since she was gone, and is said not to pay ten cents in a dollar.”
“Mr. ***,” continued the captain.
“What sort of a person is he?” demanded the gentleman.
“La! don’t you know him?” cried the lady: “it’s that grocer who made fifty thousand dollars in a coffee speculation, and has ever since been trying to get into the first society; but did not succeed on account of that blubber-faced wife of his. They say that is the reason he went to Europe. Poor wretch! he probably thought people would, in the mean time, forget that he was a grocer.”
“Mr. and Mrs. *** of Baltimore,” added the captain.
“Ah! our old friends, Mr. and Mrs. ***. What a delightful creature that Mrs. *** is! I used to be quite intimate with her at New Port; she always used to have such a choice set around her.”