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Updated: July 1, 2025
Prosper, with that kind of energy which was distinctively his own, had sent off his letter to Harry Annesley, with his postscript in it about his blighted matrimonial prospects, a letter easy to be written, before he had completed his grand epistle to Miss Thoroughbung. The epistle to Miss Thoroughbung was one requiring great consideration.
I should like to keep three ponies, and to have Miss Tickle's sister to come and live with me." "I do not know whether you are in earnest, Miss Thoroughbung." "Quite in earnest, Peter Prosper. But perhaps I had better leave that matter in the hands of Soames & Simpson, very gentleman-like men, and they'll be sure to let you know how much you ought to pay.
"Miss Thoroughbung is " "Go on, Matthew." "Well; she is a sow's ear. Ain't she, now? The servants here never would have looked upon her as a silk purse." "Wouldn't they?" "Never! She has a way with her just as though she didn't care for silk purses. And it's my mind, sir, that she don't. She wishes, however, to be uppermost, and if she had come here she'd have said so." "That can never be.
I have called you Peter Prosper, and you can't stand it. You haven't spirit enough to call me Matty Thoroughbung in reply. But good-bye, Mr. Prosper, for I never will call you Peter again. As to what I said to you about money, that, of course, is all bosh. I'll pay Soames's bill, and will never trouble you. There's your letter, which, however, would be of no use, because it is not signed.
These three events had operated strongly on Mr. Prosper's mind; but not so strongly as the conduct of Miss Thoroughbung and Messrs. Soames & Simpson. It had been made evident to him, from the joint usage which he had received from these persons, that he was simply "made use of," with the object of obtaining from him the best possible establishment for the lady in question.
Thoroughbung were to break his neck out hunting with the Puckeridge hounds, an amusement which, after the manner of brewers, he was much in the habit of following. Mrs. Annesley had lived at Buston all her life, having been born at the Hall. She was an excellent mother of a family, and a good clergyman's wife, being in both respects more painstaking and assiduous than her husband.
Miss Puffle had disgraced herself, and therefore he had thrown Buston Hall at the feet of Miss Thoroughbung. But now he had heard stories about that "excellent young man, Augustus Scarborough," which had shaken his faith. He had been able to exclaim indignantly that Harry Annesley had told a lie. "A lie!"
The huntsman came up, and at last Mr. Fairlawn also, and considered it to be their duty to pick up Dick, whose breath was knocked out of him by the weight of Joshua Thoroughbung, and the Puckeridge side felt it to be necessary to give their aid to the valiant brewer. There was then no more attempt to draw the covert.
When he was annoyed it would be long before he would get the better of the annoyance; and during such periods he would remain silent and alone. There could be no question that Miss Thoroughbung had annoyed him most excessively. And Matthew had been aware that it would be better that he should abstain from all questions.
"He is our only happiness now." "Poor Thoroughbung! I pity him if he has to do happiness for the whole household." "Joshua is a most excellent young man. Where we should be without him I do not know." The flourishing young brewer was named Joshua, and had been known to Harry for some years, though never as yet known as a brother-in-law.
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