‘This,’ said Mr Wopples in his deep voice, holding his wife’s hand as if he were afraid she would float upward thro’ the ceiling like a bubble--a not unlikely thing seeing how remarkably ethereal she looked; ‘this is my flutterer.’ Why he called her his flutterer no one ever knew, unless it was because her ribbons were incessantly fluttering; but, had he called her his shadow, the name would have been more appropriate. Mrs Wopples fluttered down to the ground in a bow, and then fluttered up again. ‘Gentlemen,’ she said, in a thin, clear voice, ‘you are welcome. Did you enjoy the performance?’ ‘Madame,’ returned Vandeloup, with a smile, ‘need you ask that?’ A shadowy smile floated over Mrs Wopples’ indistinct features, and then her husband introduced the rest of the family in a bunch. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said, waving his hand to the expectant ten, who stood in a line of five male and five female, ‘the celebrated Wopples family.’ The ten all simultaneously bowed at this as if they were worked by machinery, and then everyone sat down to supper, Mr Theodore Wopples taking the head of the table. All the family seemed to admire him immensely, and kept their eyes fastened on his face with affectionate regard. ‘Pa,’ whispered Miss Siddons Wopples to Villiers, who sat next to her, ‘is a most wonderful man. Observe his facial expression.’ Villiers observed it, and admitted also in a whisper that it was truly marvellous. Cold beef formed the staple viand on the table, and everyone did full justice to it, as also to beer and porter, of which Mr Wopples was very generous. ‘I prefer to give my friends good beer instead of bad champagne,’ he said, pompously. ‘Ha! ha! the antithesis, I think, is good.’ The Wopples family unanimously agreed that it was excellent, and Mr Handel Wopples observed to Barty that his father often made jokes worthy of Tom Hood, to which Barty agreed hastily, as he did not know who Tom Hood was, and besides was flirting in a mild manner with Miss Fanny Wopples, a pretty girl, who did the burlesque business. ‘And are all these big boys and girls yours, Madame?’ asked Vandeloup, who was rather astonished at the number of the family, and thought some of them might have been hired for theatrical purposes. Mrs Wopples nodded affirmatively with a gratified flutter, and her husband endorsed it. ‘There are four dead,’ he said, in a solemn voice. ‘Rest their souls.’ All the ten faces round the board reflected the gloom on the parental countenance, and for a few moments no one spoke. ‘This,’ said Mr Wopples, looking round with a smile, at which all the other faces lighted up, ‘this is not calculated to make our supper enjoyable, children. I may tell you that, in consequence of the great success of “The Cruet Stand”, we play it again to-morrow night.’ ‘Ah!’ said Mr Buckstone Wopples, with his mouth full, ‘I knew it would knock ‘em; that business of yours, father, with the writ is simply wonderful.’