Oldal 191 [191]
141
tc Drive on!” he cried, “ hard, fast, full
llop. Nothing short of flying will
Peep ace with me to-day.”
“ Holloa!” cried the doctor, letting
down the front glass in a great hurry,
and shouting to the postilion, “ something
very far short of flying will keep pace
with me. Do you hear?”
Jingling and clattering till distance
rendered its noise inaudible, and its rapid
progress only perceptible to the eye, the
vehicle wound its way along the road
almost hidden in a cloud of dust, now
wholly disappearing, and now becoming
visible again, as intervening objects or
the intricacies of the way permitted. It
was not until even the dusty cloud was
no longer to be seen, that the gazers dis¬
persed.
And there was one looker-on, who re¬
mained with eyes fixed upon the spot
where the carriage had disappeared, long
after it was many miles away ; for behind
the white curtain which had shrouded her
from view, when Harry raised his eyes
towards the window, sat Rose herself.
“ He seems in high spirits and happy,”
she said at length. “I feared for a time
he might be otherwise. I was mistaken.
I am very, very glad.”
Tears are signs of gladness as well as
grief but those which coursed down Rose’s
ce as she sat pensively at the window,
still pezing in the same direction, seemed
to tell more of sorrow, than of joy.
A — et 7TÉSr, e
CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH,
In which the reader, if he or she resort to the fifth
chapter of this second book, will perceive a con¬
trast not uncommon in matrimonial cases.
Mr. BUMBLE sat in the workhouse par¬
lour, with his eyes moodily fixed on the
cheerless grate, whence, as it was sum¬
mer time, no brighter gleam proceeded
than the reflection of certain sickly rays
of the sun, which were sent back from its
cold and shining surface. A paper fly¬
cage dangled from the ceiling, to which
he occasionally raised his eyes in gloomy
thought; and, as the heedless insects ho¬
vered round the gaudy net-work, Mr.
Bumble would heave a deep sigh, while a
more gloomy shadow overspread his coun¬
tenance. Mr. Bumble was meditating,
and it might be that the insects brought
to mind some painful passage in his own
past life.
Nor was Mr. Bumble’s gloom the only
thing calculated to awaken a pleasing
melancholy in the bosom of a spectator,
There were not wanting other appear¬
ances, and those closely connected with
his own person, which announced that a
great change had taken place in the posi¬
tion of his affairs. The laced coat and the
cocked hat, where were they? He still
wore knee-breeches and dark cotton stock¬
ings on his nether limbs, but they were
not the breeches, The coat was wide¬
skirted, and in that respect like the coat,
but, oh, how different! The mighty cocked
hat was replaced by a modest round one.
Mr. Bumble was no longer a beadle.
There are some promotions in life which,
independent of the more substantial re¬
wards they offer, acquire peculiar value
and dignity from the coats and waistcoats
connected with them. A _ field-marshal
has his uniform, a bishop his silk apron,
a counsellor his silk gown, a beadle his
cocked hat. Strip the bishop of his apron,
or the beadle of his cocked hat and gold
lace, what are they? Men,—mere men.
Dignity, and even holiness too, sometimes,
are more questions of coat and waistcoat
than some people imagine.
Mr. Bumble had married Mrs. Corney,
and was master of the workhouse. An¬
other beadle had come into power, and on
him the cocked hat, gold-laced coat, and
staff, had all three descended.
“And to-morrow two months it was
done!” said Mr. Bumble, with a sigh.
“Tt seems a age.”
Mr. Bumble might have meant that he
had concentrated a whole existence of
happiness into the short space of eight
weeks; but the sigh—there was a vast
deal of meaning in the sigh.
“T sold myself,” said Mr. Bumble, pur¬
suing the same train of reflection, * for six
tea-spoons, a pair of sugar-tongs, and a
| milk-pot, with a small quantity of second¬
hand furniter, and twenty pound in mo¬
ney. I went very reasonable—cheap, dirt
cheap.”
| “Cheap!” cried a shrill voice in Mr.
Bumble’s ear: “You would have been
| dear at any price; and dear enough I paid
for you, Lord above knows that.”
Mr. Bumble turned and encountered
the face of his interesting companion,
who, imperfectly comprehending the few
words she had overheard of his complaint,
had hazarded the foregoing remark at a
venture.
6 Mrs. Bumble, ma’am!” said Mr. Bum.
| ble, with sentimental sternness.
79
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