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Updated: May 1, 2025
I have no doubt we shall understand each other, mam," cried Lady Ann Newcome, for it was no other than that noble person, with her children, who had invaded the precincts of Miss Honeyman's home. "Dr. Goodenough has given me a most satisfactory account of you more satisfactory, perhaps, than you are aware of.
Going out from home one day with his father, he beheld a wine-merchant's cart, from which hampers were carried down the area gate into the lower regions of Colonel Newcome's house. "Sherrick and Co., Wine Merchants, Walpole Street," was painted upon the vehicle. "Good heavens! sir, do you get your wine from him?" Clive cried out to his father, remembering Honeyman's provisions in early times.
Charles Honeyman's elegant discourses were at this time preached in a rich silk Master of Arts' gown, presented to him, along with a teapot full of sovereigns, by his affectionate congregation at Leatherhead. But that I may not be accused of prejudice in describing Mrs.
Miss Honeyman's little feast was pronounced to be the perfection of cookery; and when the meal was over, came a noise of little feet at the parlour door, which being opened, there appeared, first, a tall nurse with a dancing baby; second and third, two little girls with little frocks, little trousers, long ringlets, blue eyes, and blue ribbons to match; fourth, Master Alfred, now quite recovered from his illness, and holding by the hand, fifth, Miss Ethel Newcome, blushing like a rose.
At the moment a smart knock comes to the door, and Fred says, "Well, Charles, it may be a friend or a lady come to confess, and I'm off; I knew you'd be sorry I was going. Tom, bring up my things; brush 'em gently, you scoundrel, and don't take the nap off. Bring up the roast pork, and plenty of apple-sauce, tell Mrs. Ridley, with my love; and one of Mr. Honeyman's shirts, and one of his razors.
In this costume and condition he will dance into Honeyman's apartment, where that meek divine may be sitting with a headache or over a novel or a newspaper; dance up to the fire flapping his robe-tails, poke it, and warm himself there; dance up to the cupboard where his reverence keeps his sherry, and help himself to a glass.
And another from Miss Honeyman's brother, containing the following: * MAJOR NEWCOME: My Dear Colonel: ... Clive is everything that a father's and uncle's, a pastor's, a teacher's, affections could desire.
I was looking at the difference of their colour at Uncle Honeyman's that day of the dejeuner. The shadows in Rosey's face, sir, are all pearly-tinted. You ought to paint her in milk, sir!" cries the enthusiast. "Have you ever remarked the grey round her eyes, and the sort of purple bloom of her cheek?
"Did you bring some of Miss Honeyman's lodging-house cards with you, Ethel?" says her brother, "and had we not better hang up one or two in Lombard Street; hers and our other relation's, Mrs. Mason?" "My darling love, who is Mrs. Mason?" asks Lady Anne. "Another member of the family, ma'am. She was cousin " "She was no such thing, sir," roars Sir Brian.
Miss Newcome had faults of her own, and was worldly enough as perhaps the reader has begun to perceive; but in this instance no harm, sure, was to be attributed to her. If two gossips in Aunt Honeyman's parlour had talked over the affairs of Mr. Jones and Mr.
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