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The poor soldier looked sicklier and shabbier, and nearer the end of all things in life and fortune, than when Lord L'Estrange had thrust the pocket-book into his hands. But still the servant showed knowledge of the world in calling him gentleman; there was no other word to apply to him. "Sir," began Colonel Pompley, recovering himself, and with great solemnity, "I did not expect this pleasure."
Richard still stood gazing into her face, with his arm extended. She hesitated a minute, and then took the arm. "Monstrous impudent!" cried the colonel. "Let Mrs. M'Catchley alone, my dear," responded Mrs. Pompley; "she will know how to give him a lesson." "Madam," said Richard, as soon as he and his companion were out of hearing, "I rely on you to do me a favour." "On me?"
Pompley! Hush, sir, hush! hold your tongue. I have disowned your connection. I will not have my wife a woman, sir, of the first family disgraced by it. Yes; you need not fire up. John Pompley is not a man to be bullied in his own house. I say disgraced. Did not you run into debt, and spend your fortune?
He is now straining hard to achieve that feat in Boulogne, and has in the process grown so red in the face, that those who meet him in his morning walk on the pier, bargaining for fish, shake their heads and say, "Old Pompley will go off in a fit of apoplexy; a great loss to society; genteel people the Pompleys! and very highly 'connected."
"Oh," said Mrs. Pompley, in unaffected surprise, "that is the nephew of the rich Vulgarian I was telling you of this morning." "Ah! and you say that he is Mr. Arundel's heir?" "Avenel not Arundel my sweet friend." "Avenel is not a bad name," said Mrs. M'Catchley. "But is the uncle really so rich?"
"Hang the fellow!" said the colonel, intrenching himself in his stock, "he is coming here. Low and shocking what shall we do? Let us stroll on." But Richard threw himself in the way of the retreat. "Mrs. M'Catchley," said he, very gravely, and offering her his arm, "allow me three words with you." The poor widow looked very much discomposed. Mrs. Pompley pulled her by the sleeve.
For a moment the most intolerant of all forms of pride, that which is based upon false pretences, hushed its voice, and the colonel hastily drew out his purse. "There," said he, "that is all I can do for you. Do leave the town as quick as you can, and don't mention your name to any one. Your father was such a respectable man, beneficed clergyman!" "And paid for your commission, Mr. Pompley.
He is now straining hard to achieve that feat in Boulogne, and has in the process grown so red in the face, that those who meet him in his morning walk on the pier, bargaining for fish, shake their heads and say, "Old Pompley will go off in a fit of apoplexy; a great loss to society; genteel people the Pompleys! and very highly 'connected."
Why, sir, many and many a time have I said to Mrs. Pompley, ''T is a mercy we have no children. We could never live in this style if we had children, never make both ends meet. Child the most expensive, ravenous, ruinous thing in the world a child." "She has been accustomed to starve," said Mr. Digby, plaintively. "Oh, Colonel, let me see your wife. Her heart I can touch, she is a woman."
"I will let you out this way. If Mrs. Pompley should see you!" And with that thought the colonel absolutely hooked his arm into his poor relation's, and hurried him into the garden. Mr.
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