"Well, we all have our little prejudices against various things; and as I did not know how you both would feel, I thought I wouldn't take any decided steps without consulting you; but now I shall consider it settled, and will let the lad know that I will take him."
In the evening, he hastened home at an earlier hour than usual, and delighted his wife by saying—"I have succeeded to a charm, my dear—there wasn't the very slightest objection. I'm going to take the boy, if he wishes to come." "Oh, I'm delighted," cried she, clapping her hands. "Cry hurrah for papa!" said she to the baby; "cry hurrah for papa!"
The scion of the house of Burrell gave vent to some scarcely intelligible sounds, that resembled "Hoo-rogler pop-pop!" which his mother averred was astonishingly plain, and deserving of a kiss; and, snatching him up, she gave him two or three hearty ones, and then planted him in his father's lap again."
"My dear," said her husband, "I thought, as you proposed my taking this youth, you might like to have the pleasure of acquainting him with his good fortune. After tea, if you are disposed, we will go down there; the walk will do you good."
"Oh, George Burrell," said she, her face radiant with pleasure, "you are certainly trying to outdo yourself. I have been languishing all day for a walk! What a charming husband you are! I really ought to do something for you. Ah, I know what—I'll indulge you; you may smoke all the way there and back. I'll even go so far as to light the cigars for you myself."
"That is a boon," rejoined her husband with a smile; "really 'virtue rewarded,' I declare."
Tea over, the baby kissed and put to bed, Mrs. Burrell tied on the most bewitching of bonnets, and donning her new fur-trimmed cloak, declared herself ready for the walk; and off they started. Mr. Burrell puffed away luxuriously as they walked along, stopping now and then at her command, to look into such shop-windows as contained articles adapted to the use of infants, from india-rubber rings and ivory rattles, to baby coats and shoes.
At length they arrived at the door of Mr. Walters, and on, looking up at the house, he exclaimed, "This is 257, but it can't be the place; surely coloured people don't live in as fine an establishment as this." Then, running up the steps, he examined the plate upon the door. "The name corresponds with the address given me," said he; "I'll ring. Is there a lad living here by the name of Charles Ellis?" he asked of the servant who opened the door.
"Yes, sir," was the reply. "Will you walk in?"
When they were ushered into the drawing-room, Mr. Burrell said,—"Be kind enough to say that a gentleman wishes to see him."