“Yes; one gets weary of them. You know, go where you will, it’s the same thing over and over again.”
“But it seems that it was not so in this case.”
“No, it was not. Her ladyship, no doubt, wished to make a little variety, and so she was good enough to provide us with something new.”
“Dear me!” cried Walter; “how I should have liked being there! What was the novelty? Was it a temperance lecture, or a Band of Hope meeting for the benefit of the old boys and girls of sixty or seventy years of age? That must have been very lively. Or perhaps it was a Protestant address against nunneries and monasteries. My brother Amos would have liked to have had a word on that subject.”
“No, no, Mr Walter; you must not be foolish.”
“Well, do tell me. I am all anxiety to know what this attractive novelty was. Not a conjurer? that would have been capital fun.”
“No, not a conjurer exactly.”
“Well, then, something of the sort?”
“Yes; Lady Gambit had engaged a celebrated mimic—a man, I mean, who can take off other people to the life.”
“Indeed,” said Walter. “Perhaps it might have been as well if he had taken himself off. But, excuse my nonsense; what did he mimic?”