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Updated: June 6, 2025
In vain poor Andrew Cogglesby, to whom the dinner had been torture, and who was beginning to see the position they stood in at Beckley, begged to be allowed to take them away, or to go alone. The Countess laughed him into submission.
'You can have some of the servants' beer, Mrs. Cogglesby appended. Andrew studied her face to see whether she really was not hoisting him with his own petard. Perceiving that she was sincerely acting according to her sense of principle, he fumed, and departed to his privacy, unable to stand it any longer. Then like a kite the Countess pounced upon his character.
'Excellent! shouted Raikes. 'Thomas! he addressed a footman, 'hand in my card. Mr. John Feversham Raikes. 'And tell my lady, Tom Cogglesby's come, added the owner of that name. We will follow Tom Cogglesby, as he chooses to be called. Lady Jocelyn rose on his entering the library, and walking up to him, encountered him with a kindly full face.
Andrew Cogglesby, Mrs. Strike, and Evan's mother. She saw by his face the offence she had committed, and acted on by one of her impulses, said: 'Mama, I think if I were to speak to Mr. Harrington Ere her mother could make light of the suggestion, Old Tom had jumped up, and bowed out his arm. 'Allow me to conduct ye to the drawing room, upstairs, young lady. He'll follow, safe enough!
It would have been delightful to him, of course, to have the tailor's son messing at the same table, and claiming him when he pleased with a familiar 'Ah, brother! and prating of their relationship everywhere. Strike had been a fool: in revenge for it he laid out for himself a masterly career of consequent wisdom. The brewer uxorious Andrew Cogglesby might and would have bought the commission.
Andrew would infallibly pursue her, and light on a discovery. Twice cursed by Love, twice the victim of tailordom, our excellent Marine gave away Harriet Harrington in marriage to Mr. Andrew Cogglesby. Thus Joy clapped hands a second time, and Horror deepened its shadows. From higher ground it was natural that the remaining sister should take a bolder flight.
Andrew Cogglesby, Mrs. Strike, and Evan's mother. She saw by his face the offence she had committed, and acted on by one of her impulses, said: 'Mama, I think if I were to speak to Mr. Harrington Ere her mother could make light of the suggestion, Old Tom had jumped up, and bowed out his arm. 'Allow me to conduct ye to the drawing room, upstairs, young lady. He'll follow, safe enough!
Moving with our nobility as an equal, she could feel that the short dazzling glitter of her career was not illusory, and had left her something solid; not coin of the realm exactly, but yet gold. She could not feel this in the Cogglesby saloons, among pitiable bourgeoises middle-class people daily soiled by the touch of tradesmen. They dragged her down. Their very homage was a mockery.
The wife of the Major has come this afternoon, and Andrew Cogglesby, who brought her, chats with Lady Jocelyn like an old acquaintance. Evan shakes the hands of his relatives. Who shall turn over the leaves of the fair singer's music-book?
It was the evening of the second day since the arrival of the black letter in London from Lymport, and the wife of the brewer and the wife of the Major sat dropping tears into one another's laps, in expectation of their sister the Countess. Mr. Andrew Cogglesby had not yet returned from his office.
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