“Well, that is certainly a great recommendation!” exclaimed she. “I wish I could persuade our gentlemen to imitate your example; it would perhaps cure them of the disgusting habit of spitting.”
All this was said sufficiently loud for every one near her to hear; after which the young lady, having attracted the general attention of the company, vanished through the folding-doors with the same ease and composure as a French actress who has been the favourite of the public for years.
When I regained my place, pudding and pastry had disappeared; and, the cloth being removed, dessert was placed on the table. This was of course the signal for the general departure of ladies and gentlemen; so that in about five minutes my friend and myself, two or three elderly gentlemen, the agent of the Manchester house, and the fat English doctor, were the only persons remaining in the room.
“Let us club together,” said the doctor, “and call for an extra bottle of old Carolina madeira.”
“I am glad to hear that,” cried my friend; “but, above all things, let us get some biscuits and cheese,—I have not had a mouthful of dinner.”
“Served you right!” said the doctor; “why will you be prating to those girls? They have had their dinner long ago at a confectioner’s shop. I have made it a rule of my life, ever since I came to this country, to take my place at the end of the table, as far as possible removed from everything feminine; and to the observation of this maxim I am indebted for my good figure, in spite of the fogs and the easterly winds.”
“Why, you know, doctor,” interrupted a thin-looking American, “that your shape would not answer at all for a ladies’ man. In the first place, you have the chest and shoulders of an English collier; your face is full and round, as though you had been swilling porter all your life; your legs, especially your thighs, are the very essence of beef; and, above all, sir, you have a paunch!—a paunch which would frighten any of our West-end ladies into hysterics! An American exquisite must not measure more than twenty-four inches round the chest; his face must be pale, thin, and long; and he must be spindle-shanked, or he won’t do for a party. There is nothing our women dislike so much as corpulency: weak and refined are synonymous.”
“That’s a fact,” rejoined my friend; “I heard Mrs. ***, of F——a, descant on the vulgarity of English women, because they were accustomed to walk.”
“And in all sorts of weather, too, without being laid up six weeks with the hooping-cough!” cried the doctor.
“The fact is,” rejoined the American gentleman, “your English women are of a much coarser make than ours; they are eternally taking exercise for their health; and, as for physical strength, I believe there are no women equal to them in the world.”