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The discrepancy between Mrs Skewton's fresh enthusiasm of words, and forlornly faded manner, was hardly less observable than that between her age, which was about seventy, and her dress, which would have been youthful for twenty-seven. Mrs Skewton was a beauty then, and bucks threw wine-glasses over their heads by dozens in her honour.

Mr Dombey, with a lofty gallantry adapted to his dignity and the occasion, betook his creaking boots towards her, put her hand to his lips, said, 'Tomorrow morning I shall have the happiness of claiming this hand as Mrs Dombey's, and bowed himself solemnly out. Mrs Skewton rang for candles as soon as the house-door had closed upon him.

'You were complimentary to the mother, returned Mr Dombey. 'An ancient flame, Sir, chuckled Major Bagstock. 'Devilish ancient. I humour her. 'She impresses me as being perfectly genteel, said Mr Dombey. 'Genteel, Sir, said the Major, stopping short, and staring in his companion's face. 'The Honourable Mrs Skewton, Sir, is sister to the late Lord Feenix, and aunt to the present Lord.

While they were thus engaged; and under the skilful culture of the Manager, angry thoughts in reference to poor Florence brooded and bred in Mr Dombey's breast, usurping the place of the cold dislike that generally reigned there; Major Bagstock, much admired by the old ladies of Leamington, and followed by the Native, carrying the usual amount of light baggage, straddled along the shady side of the way, to make a morning call on Mrs Skewton.

Mrs Skewton wrote what she would, without seeking for any more explicit directions, and handed her letter to the Major, who receiving it as a precious charge, made a show of laying it near his heart, but was fain to put it in the pocket of his pantaloons on account of the insecurity of his waistcoat The Major then took a very polished and chivalrous farewell of both ladies, which the elder one acknowledged in her usual manner, while the younger, sitting with her face addressed to the window, bent her head so slightly that it would have been a greater compliment to the Major to have made no sign at all, and to have left him to infer that he had not been heard or thought of.

On the next day but one, Mr Dombey and the Major encountered the Honourable Mrs Skewton and her daughter in the Pump-room; on the day after, they met them again very near the place where they had met them first. After meeting them thus, three or four times in all, it became a point of mere civility to old acquaintances that the Major should go there one evening.

No man or woman has the hardihood to hint at the projected visit to the play. Anyone reviving the notion of the ball, would be scouted as a malignant idiot. Mrs Skewton sleeps upstairs, two hours afterwards, and naps are not yet over in the kitchen.

'What I want, drawled Mrs Skewton, pinching her shrivelled throat, 'is heart. It was frightfully true in one sense, if not in that in which she used the phrase. 'What I want, is frankness, confidence, less conventionality, and freer play of soul. We are so dreadfully artificial. We were, indeed. 'In short, said Mrs Skewton, 'I want Nature everywhere. It would be so extremely charming.

'May I be allowed, Madam, said Carker, turning his white teeth on Mrs Skewton like a light 'a lady of your excellent sense and quick feeling will give me credit, for good reason, I am sure to address what I have to say, to Mrs Dombey, and to leave her to impart it to you who are her best and dearest friend next to Mr Dombey? Mrs Skewton would have retired, but Edith stopped her.

A variety of requisites in plate and china being also conveyed to the same establishment from the same convenient source, with several miscellaneous articles, including a neat chariot and a pair of bays, Mrs Skewton cushioned herself on the principal sofa, in the Cleopatra attitude, and held her court in fair state.