“‘Oh, perfectly,’ said I, overjoyed at the novelty of the scene, and anticipating much pleasure from my chance meeting with such very original characters. “‘Mr. Sparks, Mrs. Winterbottom. Allow me to present Mr. Sparks.’ “‘Any news from Batavia, young gentleman?’ said the sallow old lady addressed. ‘How is coffee!’ “The general passed on, introducing me rapidly as he went. “‘Mr. Doolittle, Mr. Sparks.’ “‘Ah, how do you do, old boy?’ said Mr. Doolittle; ‘sit down beside me. We have forty thousand acres of pickled cabbage spoiling for want of a little vinegar.’ “‘Fie, fie, Mr. Doolittle,’ said the general, and passed on to another. “‘Mr. Sparks, Captain Crosstree.’ “‘Ah, Sparks, Sparks! son of old Blazes! ha, ha, ha!’ and the captain fell back into an immoderate fit of laughter. “_‘Le Rio est serci_,’ said the thin meagre figure in nankeens, bowing, cap in hand, before the general; and accordingly, we all assumed our places upon the grass. “‘Say it again! Say it again, and I’ll plunge this dagger in your heart!’ said a hollow voice, tremulous with agitation and rage, close beside me. I turned my head, and saw an old gentleman with a wart on his nose, sitting opposite a meat-pie, which he was contemplating with a look of fiery indignation. Before I could witness the sequel of the scene, I felt a soft hand pressed upon mine. I turned. It was Isabella herself, who, looking at me with an expression I shall never forget, said:-- “‘Don’t mind poor Faddy; he never hurts any one.’ “Meanwhile the business of dinner went on rapidly. The servants, of whom enormous numbers were now present, ran hither and thither; and duck, ham, pigeon-pie, cold veal, apple tarts, cheese, pickled salmon, melon, and rice pudding, flourished on every side. As for me, whatever I might have gleaned from the conversation around under other circumstances, I was too much occupied with Isabella to think of any one else. My suit--for such it was--progressed rapidly. There was evidently something favorable in the circumstances we last met under; for her manner had all the warmth and cordiality of old friendship. It is true that, more than once, I caught the general’s eye fixed upon us with anything but an expression of pleasure, and I thought that Isabella blushed and seemed confused also. ‘What care I?’ however, was my reflection; ‘my views are honorable; and the nephew and heir of Sir Toby Sparks--’ Just in the very act of making this reflection, the old man in the shorts hit me in the eye with a roasted apple, calling out at the moment:-- “‘When did you join, thou child of the pale-faces?’ “‘Mr. Murdocks!’ cried the general, in a voice of thunder; and the little man hung down his head, and spoke not. “‘A word with you, young gentleman,’ said a fat old lady, pinching my arm above the elbow. “‘Never mind her,’ said Isabella, smiling; ‘poor dear old Dorking, she thinks she’s an hour-glass. How droll, isn’t it?’