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‘You are very lucky, if you have had an opportunity of obliging that great man,’ observed Flamwell, with an air of profound respect. ‘I don’t know who he is,’ he whispered to Mr. Malderton, confidentially, as they followed Horatio up to the drawing-room. ‘It’s quite clear, however, that he belongs to the law, and that he is somebody of great importance, and very highly connected.’

Barton, endured that sort of agony which the newspapers inform us is experienced by the surrounding neighbourhood when a pot-boy hangs himself in a hay-loft, and which is ‘much easier to be imagined than described.’ ‘Have you seen your friend, Sir Thomas Noland, lately, Flamwell?’ inquired Mr.

‘Yes, I did; and here I am in consequence.’ ‘You don’t happen to know this Mr. Sparkins by name? You know everybody?’ Mr. Flamwell was one of those gentlemen of remarkably extensive information whom one occasionally meets in society, who pretend to know everybody, but in reality know nobody.

Sparkins dismounted, and confided him to the care of Mr. Malderton’s groom. The ceremony of introduction was gone through, in all due form. Mr. Flamwell looked from behind his green spectacles at Horatio with an air of mysterious importance; and the gallant Horatio looked unutterable things at Teresa. ‘Is he the Honourable Mr. Augustus What’s-his-name?’ whispered Mrs.

Barton!’ said the servant. ‘Confound the man!’ murmured Malderton. ‘Ah! my dear sir, how d’ye do! Any news?’ ‘Why no,’ returned the grocer, in his usual bluff manner. ‘No, none partickler. None that I am much aware of. How d’ye do, gals and boys? Mr. Flamwell, sirglad to see you.’ ‘Here’s Mr.

I thought of entering once, myselfindeed, I’m rather intimate with some of the highest ornaments of that distinguished profession.’ ‘N-no!’ said Horatio, with a little hesitation; ‘not exactly.’ ‘But you have been much among the silk gowns, or I mistake?’ inquired Flamwell, deferentially. ‘Nearly all my life,’ returned Sparkins. The question was thus pretty well settled in the mind of Mr.

Jacob Barton, the individual alluded to, was a large grocer; so vulgar, and so lost to all sense of feeling, that he actually never scrupled to avow that he wasn’t above his business: ‘he’d made his money by it, and he didn’t care who know’d it.’ ‘Ah! Flamwell, my dear fellow, how d’ye do?’ said Mr. Malderton, as a little spoffish man, with green spectacles, entered the room. ‘You got my note?’

The gentlemen being left to themselves, a pause ensued, during which everybody looked very grave, as if they were quite overcome by the profound nature of the previous discussion. Flamwell, who had made up his mind to find out who and what Mr. Horatio Sparkins really was, first broke silence. ‘Excuse me, sir,’ said that distinguished personage, ‘I presume you have studied for the bar?

Sparkins bowed again, and declared that he should be delighted, but business of importance occupied him in the morning. Flamwell looked at Malderton significantly.—‘It’s term time!’ he whispered. At twelve o’clock on the following morning, the ‘fly’ was at the door of Oak Lodge, to convey Mrs. Malderton and her daughters on their expedition for the day.

‘With black hair?’ inquired Flamwell, hazarding a bold guess. ‘Yes,’ returned Miss Teresa, eagerly. ‘Rather a snub nose?’ ‘No,’ said the disappointed Teresa, ‘he has a Roman nose.’ ‘I said a Roman nose, didn’t I?’ inquired Flamwell. ‘He’s an elegant young man?’ ‘Oh, certainly.’ ‘With remarkably prepossessing manners?’ ‘Oh, yes!’ said all the family together. ‘You must know him.’