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The Marchioness is a Genie and having had a wager with another Genie about who is the handsomest young man alive, and the worthiest to be the husband of the Princess of China, has brought me away, room and all, to compare us together." Not feeling quite satisfied with this explanation, Mr. Swiveller determined to take the first opportunity of addressing his companion.
Mr Swiveller came back, almost at the same instant; and as Kit was leaving the room hastily, to make up for lost time, Miss Brass herself encountered him in the doorway. 'Oh! sneered Sally, looking after him as she entered. 'There goes your pet, Sammy, eh? 'Ah! There he goes, replied Brass. 'My pet, if you please. An honest fellow, Mr Richard, sir a worthy fellow indeed!
Swiveller kept the Marchioness at this establishment until she was, at a moderate guess, full nineteen years of age, at which time, thanks to her earliest friend and most loyal champion, Richard Swiveller, the shadows of a bitter past had been chased from her memory by a happy present, and she was as good-looking, clever, and good-humored a young woman as ever a real Marchioness might have been.
Marchioness, your health. You will excuse my wearing my hat, but the palace is damp, and the marble floor is if I may be allowed the expression sloppy. As a precaution against this latter inconvenience, Mr Swiveller had been sitting for some time with his feet on the hob, in which attitude he now gave utterance to these apologetic observations, and slowly sipped the last choice drops of nectar.
'Then, said somebody hard by, 'let me be a father to you. Mr Swiveller swayed himself to and fro to preserve his balance, and, looking into a kind of haze which seemed to surround him, at last perceived two eyes dimly twinkling through the mist, which he observed after a short time were in the neighbourhood of a nose and mouth.
Vague recollections of several fantastic exercises with which he had refreshed himself after the fatigues of business, and to all of which, no doubt, the small servant was a party, rather disconcerted Mr Swiveller; but he was not very sensitive on such points, and recovered himself speedily. 'Well come in' he said, after a little consideration. 'Here sit down, and I'll teach you how to play.
"This is a queer sort of thing," muttered Dick, rising. "What do you mean to say you are the cook?" "Yes; I do plain cooking," replied the child. "I'm housemaid too. I do all the work of the house." Just then certain sounds on the passage and staircase seemed to denote the applicant's impatience. Richard Swiveller, therefore, hurried out to meet and treat with the single gentleman.
Vague recollections of several fantastic exercises with which he had refreshed himself after the fatigues of business, and to all of which, no doubt, the small servant was a party, rather disconcerted Mr. Swiveller; but he was not very sensitive on such points, and recovered himself speedily. "Well come in," he said, after a little consideration. "Here sit down, and I'll teach you how to play."
Ever since I come here, you've been out of your senses, and what would have been the good of telling you then? 'Marchioness, said Mr Swiveller, plucking off his nightcap and flinging it to the other end of the room; 'if you'll do me the favour to retire for a few minutes and see what sort of a night it is, I'll get up. 'You mustn't think of such a thing, cried his nurse.
Swiveller, "will you have the goodness to inform me where I shall find my voice; and what has become of my flesh?" The Marchioness only shook her head mournfully, and cried again, whereupon Mr. "I begin to infer, Marchioness," said Richard, after a pause, "that I have been ill." "You just have!" replied the small servant, wiping her eyes. "Haven't you been a-talking nonsense!" "Oh!", said Dick.
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