“Brother Chadwick had concluded that Mr. Clegg was wholly without capital, whereas he happens to have more than a thousand pounds at his disposal.”
(Broadcloth made sudden acquaintance with chairbacks. George Pilkington grasped his friend’s hand; there was a puckering of Mrs. Clowes’s wrinkles; there were lowering brows from Laurence and John.)
“And Mr. Clegg being perfectly satisfied with his present investment, and anxious to join the gingham manufacturer without quitting the small-ware manufacturer, proposed”—pinch of snuff—“that the two concerns should be amalgamated, and he have a share. Gentlemen and ladies, the proposal was hailed as an inspiration; and as soon as the change can be legally effected, the firm will be gazetted as ‘Ashton, Chadwick, and Clegg!’ And now let us drink—‘Success to the new partnerships, matrimonial and commercial!’”
Aspinall’s voice alone remained silent amongst the enthusiastic cheers with which the toast was drunk. Ellen, with humid eyes, escaped to change her garments, and Augusta also rose; but as she passed the new Manchester Man, around whom friends crowded with congratulations, she put out her hand with a smile, and said, “Cousin Jabez, I wish success to both your partnerships with all my heart.”
Laurence was at her elbow, apparently to lead her with courteous ceremony from the room, and whilst offering one hand with a graceful inclination of his head, he contrived with the other to pinch the upper part of her arm, and to whisper in her ear, between his set teeth—
“D—— n you, madam! You shall smart for this!”
An irrepressible ejaculation of pain burst from her. More than one turned round. There was real concern on the brow of Jabez as he asked—
“What is the matter, Mrs. Aspinall? Are you hurt?”
She made light of it.