“All of which proves my insufficiency to render you happy. But here comes Francis with yesterday morning’s paper—let us see what society is about in London.”
After a few moments of intense occupation with the journal, an exclamation of pleasure and surprise escaped the sweet girl. On raising my eyes I saw her gazing (as I fancied) fondly at myself.
“Read what you have that seems to give you so much pleasure.”
She complied, reading with an eager and tremulous voice the following paragraph:
“His majesty has been most graciously pleased to raise John Goldencalf of Householder Hall, in the county of Dorset, and of Cheapside, Esquire, to the dignity of a baronet of the united kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland.”
“Sir John Goldencalf, I have the honor to drink to your health and happiness!” cried the delighted girl, brightening like the dawn, and wetting her pouting lip with liquor less ruby than itself. “Here, Francis, fill a bumper and drink to the new baronet.”
The gray-headed butler did as ordered with a very good grace, and then hurried into the servants’ hall to communicate the news.
“Here at least, Jack, is a new hold that society has on you, whatever hold you may have on society.”
I was pleased because she was pleased, and because it showed that Lord Pledge had some sense of gratitude (although he afterward took occasion to intimate that I owed the favor chiefly to HOPE), and I believe my eyes never expressed more fondness.
“Lady Goldencalf would not have an awkward sound after all, dearest Anna.”