“What is it?” said Mr. Woolsey to his ally, Crump, as they sat together after the retirement of the ladies. “She was dumb all night. She never once laughed at the farce, nor cried at the tragedy, and you know she laughs and cries uncommon. She only took half her negus, and not above a quarter of her beer.”
“No more she did!” replied Mr. Crump, very calmly. “I think it must be the barber as has been captivating her: he dressed her hair for the play.”
“Hang him, I'll shoot him!” said Mr. Woolsey. “A fat foolish effeminate beast like that marry Miss Morgiana? Never! I WILL shoot him. I'll provoke him next Saturday—I'll tread on his toe—I'll pull his nose.”
“No quarrelling at the 'Kidneys!'” answered Crump sternly; “there shall be no quarrelling in that room as long as I'm in the chair!”
“Well, at any rate you'll stand my friend?”
“You know I will,” answered the other. “You are honourable, and I like you better than Eglantine. I trust you more than Eglantine, sir. You're more of a man than Eglantine, though you ARE a tailor; and I wish with all my heart you may get Morgiana. Mrs. C. goes the other way, I know: but I tell you what, women will go their own ways, sir, and Morgy's like her mother in this point, and depend upon it, Morgy will decide for herself.”
Mr. Woolsey presently went home, still persisting in his plan for the assassination of Eglantine. Mr. Crump went to bed very quietly, and snored through the night in his usual tone. Mr. Eglantine passed some feverish moments of jealousy, for he had come down to the club in the evening, and had heard that Morgiana was gone to the play with his rival. And Miss Morgiana dreamed, of a man who was—must we say it?—exceedingly like Captain Howard Walker. “Mrs. Captain So-and-so!” thought she. “Oh, I do love a gentleman dearly!”
And about this time, too, Mr. Walker himself came rolling home from the “Regent,” hiccupping. “Such hair!—such eyebrows!—such eyes! like b-b-billiard-balls, by Jove!”