Now, while the scene previously described was going on down stairs in the kitchen, another single knock “came” to the door. It was one of the under-clerks from the railway station who had just “stepped on” to inform the gentleman from the country that his boxes had come safely to hand. The Official, however, had no time to deliver his message; for the Major, who occupied the parlours, and who had just returned from his morning’s walk, overhearing some one in the passage say that he had come about something that was missing, popped his white head out of the parlour door, and making sure that some clue had been obtained to his runaway niece, requested the young man to step that way.
“So, I suppose you’ve come to tell me, you’ve got hold of that precious baggage of mine at last, eh?” said the Major, as he paced up and down the room with delight, and made the floor shake again with the tread of his wooden leg.
“Yes, sir; they was bwought up by the fust twain this morning, sir,” said the little gent, as he sucked the horse’s hoof that did duty for a handle to his short stick. “And a ware lot you have, sir!” added the young man, smiling, half in joke, at recollection of the three-and-twenty packages.
“Ah! a rare lot, indeed!” returned the Major, between his teeth, as he sighed, and thought of the disgrace brought upon the family by the conduct of his niece. “Never was such a lot, I think.”
“Why, certingly, sir,” replied the “fast” young clerk, who thought it “spicy” not to be able to sound the r’s properly, “it ain’t the wegular caper, certingly. But your lady, like the west of them, sir, pewaps likes to twavel well pewided. You know, sir, when they’re coming up to the metwopolis, the ladies always will have a change or two.”
“A change or two! hang me, if I don’t think they’re always changing!” exclaimed the Major, alluding to the inconstancy rather than the love of dress, which even the advocates of the “rights of women” allow to be a distinguishing feature of the sex. “Now, I shouldn’t wonder but what, with all these foreigners here, you have many ‘missing’ cases at your place!”
“Oh, sir, vewy many cases missing, indeed; and some of ’em woth a good sum. Why, there was one wun off with, the other day, chock full of jewels, sir,” added the communicative little clerk, who was delighted to show off his importance.
“I don’t doubt you, my good sir; those foreign beggars are devils after the tin,” returned the French-hating Major.
“Oh, yes, most of the missing cases with us are tin cases, I can assure you, sir; the others, sir, are hardly worth the fellows looking after, you know; and the worst of it is, sir, that fwequently they bweak their heads, and plunder them of all that’s valuable belonging to ’em; and then, maybe, they chuck ’em into the first river they come to.”