Page:Once a Week, Series 1, Volume II Dec 1859 to June 1860.pdf/310

 31, 1860.] ferocious young ass, sir. Can’t you see another young donkey without joining company in kicks—eh? Sit down, and don’t dare to spoil the fun any more. You a tailor! Who’ll believe it? You’re a nobleman in disguise. Didn’t your friend say so?—ha! ha! Sit down.” He pulled out his watch, and proclaiming that he was born into this world at the hour about to strike, called for a bumper all round.

While such of the company as had yet legs and eyes unvanquished by the potency of the ale, stood up to drink and cheer; Mark, the waiter, scurried into the room, and, to the immense stupefaction of the chairman, and amusement of his guests, spread the news of the immediate birth of a little stranger on the premises, who was declared by Dr. Pillie to be a lusty boy, and for whom the kindly landlady solicited good luck to be drunk.

was let out of the pen whilst the Court was refreshing itself. Mr. Lamb waited for the lady at the bottom of the fatal steps, and offering his arm to her in a deferential way, conducted her to her seat. Nothing surprised me more than the appearance of perfect indifference, towards each other, which the two principals in v.  contrived to put on during this temporary cessation of hostilities. For six years the one had been loving on against hope,—the other torturing his tender victim. What days, what nights they must have passed together! What words of bitterness and temporary reconciliation must have been uttered between them! Then there was Nature’s soft but adamantine link—that beautiful babe with the Barber eyes, and the Montresor “pobsie-wobsies,” or feet with astonishing toes; but all seemed now clean forgotten and out of their minds? Mr. Barber—as far as his manner was concerned—might have been leaning over the rails in Rotten Row, discussing the demerits of a chestnut screw with his abandoned associates—Mrs. Barber might have been paying a graceful tribute of commendation to the beauty of a rival, or engaged in a daring analysis of the last thing in lace-falls, for any trace of emotion you could discover in their countenances. Madam Leocadie Lareine had come into Court, and now formed one of our little group near the Jury-Box, consisting of Mrs. Barber, her maid, her nurse, Mr. Lamb, and myself. Mr. Lamb now addressed the lady, but with a sort of sandwich-and-sherry manner, just as though he were speaking of the most indifferent matters.

“Mrs. Barber, be good enough to smile at me occasionally whilst I am giving you my last instructions, and see you take heed to them. I have that confidence in your strength of mind that I’ll tell you exactly where you are—just precisely in the most dangerous position in which a woman could stand. For the next hour you would be safer in the bear’s den in the Zoological Gardens, after a parcel of schoolboys had been irritating the bears by alluring them to the top of the pole with buns, and then depriving them of the anticipated encouragement to industry, than up yonder on that comfortable cushion. Be good enough to smile at me, as if I’d said something to amuse you.”

“La! Mr. Lamb!” said the lady, with an expression upon her face of intense amusement, just allowing her glance to fall for an instant on the two Misses Barber, and then withdrawing it emphatically, as though afraid of giving offence. “La! Mr. Lamb, you don’t say so!”

“You’re sublime, Madam, positively sublime. You’re the first woman I ever admired in my life. After we’ve turned Barber out of doors, if you’ll accept me as a substitute, I can only say that I will take the earliest opportunity of tendering you my hand and fortune in a regular way. May I trouble you for another smile, Mrs. Barber?”

“La! Mr. Lamb, you funny old dear! What