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Updated: May 21, 2025
Just when the laugh had fairly burst, Colonel John Boadley Bancker clapped his hand to his head, satisfied himself that the catastrophe had really occurred, then made a grab at the wig and caught it out of the hands of his tormentor, took three steps out of the room to the hat-rack in the hall, and a few more out into the bright moonlight. Napoleon had left Waterloo!
Mary Allen, that was, now Mrs. Livingston; that beautiful little Miss Gray, whom we saw in Boston; she became Mrs. Dobel, then a widow, and now Mrs. Payne. At Philadelphia Mrs. Lenox and K. almost quarrelled with me for your passing their gate without calling. They had made some preparation, and, in good faith, desired your visit. Miss Boadley, too, talked of you with great interest.
There was a certain John Boadley Bancker, a man of a family exceedingly respectable, though decayed, who had himself been a speculator in lands and stocks and amassed more or less money, and who was popularly understood to have been intrusted by Major General Governor Morgan with the authority of Colonel and the permission to raise a regiment for the war.
And now gathering strength and force as well as anger, as he rolled down the mountain of denunciation, he went on: "I have called you down, both of you, and you especially, Emily, to make a final settlement with you! I have told you before that you should marry Colonel John Boadley Bancker, and I need not tell you again, for by G you shall! And now I tell you something more.
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