"Oh, ma!" exclaimed Miss Tag-rag, faintly, changing color, as she caught
sight, through the blinds, of the approaching visitors--"if there isn't
Mr. Titmouse!" and almost dropping on the table her plate, in which,
with an air of tender gallantry, pious Mr. Horror was in the act of
depositing some greens, she flew out of the room, darted up-stairs, and
in a trice was standing, with beating heart, before her glass, hastily
twirling her ringlets round her trembling fingers, and making one or two
slight alterations in her dress. Her papa and mamma started up at the
same moment, hastily wiping their mouths on the corners of the
table-cloth; and, after a hurried apology to their reverend and
astounded guest, whom they begged "to go on eating till they came
back"--they bounced into the little drawing-room, in just time enough to
appear (as they thought) to have been seated there for some time; but
they were both rather red in the face, and flustered in their manner.
Yet, how abortive was their attempt to disguise the truly disgraceful
fact of their having been at dinner when their distinguished visitors
arrived! For, firstly, the house was redolent of the odors of roast
pork, sage and onion stuffing, and greens; secondly, the red-faced
servant girl was peering round the corner of the kitchen stairs, as if
watching an opportunity to whip off a small dinner tray that stood
between the dining-room and drawing-room; and thirdly, the visitors
caught a glimpse of the countenance of the reverend young guest, who was
holding open the dining-room door just wide enough to enable him to see
who passed on to the drawing-room; for, in truth, the name which had
escaped from the lips of Miss Tag-rag, was one which always excited
unpleasant feelings in the breast of her spiritual-minded friend.
"Ah! Mr. and Mrs. Tag-rag! 'Pon my soul--glad to see you--and--hope
you're all well?" commenced Titmouse, with an air of easy confidence and
grace. Mr. Gammon calmly introduced himself and Mr. Quirk.
"We were just going to sit down to--_lunch_," said Mr. Tag-rag,
hurriedly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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