‘Champagne and a chicken at last.’”
“The chicken without the champagne, if you please,” said Miss Mowbray; “I have known ladies pay dear to have champagne on the board.—By the by, Lady Penelope, you have not your collection in the same order and discipline as Pidcock and Polito. There was much growling and snarling in the lower den when I passed it.”
“It was feeding-time, my love,” said Lady Penelope; “and the lower animals of every class become pugnacious at that hour—you see all our safer and well-conditioned animals are loose, and in good order.”
“Oh, yes—in the keeper's presence, you know—Well, I must venture to cross the hall again among all that growling and grumbling—I would I had the fairy prince's quarters of mutton to toss among them if they should break out—He, I mean, who fetched water from the Fountain of Lions. However, on second thoughts, I will take the back way, and avoid them.—What says honest Bottom?—
‘For if they should as lions come in strife
Into such place, 'twere pity of their life.’”
“Shall I go with you, my dear?” said Lady Penelope.
“No—I have too great a soul for that—I think some of them are lions only as far as the hide is concerned.”
“But why would you go so soon, Clara?”
“Because my errand is finished—have I not invited you and yours? and would not Lord Chesterfield himself allow I have done the polite thing?”
“But you have spoke to none of the company—how can you be so odd, my love?” said her ladyship.