the griffin’s claws.
well, master had hit the right nail on the head this time: thanx to luck — the crooked one, to be sure, but then it had the goold nobb, which was the part deuceace most valued, as well he should; being a connyshure as to the relletiff valyou of pretious metals, and much preferring virging goold like this to poor old battered iron like my lady griffin.
and so, in spite of his father (at which old noblemin mr. deuceace now snapt his fingers), in spite of his detts (which, to do him justas, had never stood much in his way), and in spite of his povatty, idleness, extravagans, swindling, and debotcheries of all kinds (which an’t generally very favorable to a young man who has to make his way in the world); in spite of all, there he was, i say, at the topp of the trea, the fewcher master of a perfect fortun, the defianced husband of a fool of a wife. what can mortial man want more? vishns of ambishn now occupied his soal. shooting boxes, oppra boxes, money boxes always full; hunters at melton; a seat in the house of commins: heaven knows what! and not a poar footman, who only describes what he’s seen, and can’t, in cors, pennytrate into the idears and the busms of men.
you may be shore that the three-cornered noats came pretty thick now from the griffinses. miss was always a-writing them befoar; and now, nite, noon, and mornink, breakfast, dinner, and sopper, in they came, till my pantry (for master never read ’em, and i carried ’em out) was puffickly intolrabble from the odor of musk, ambygrease, bargymot, and other sense with which they were impregniated. here’s the contense of three on ’em, which i’ve kep in my dex these twenty years as skeewriosities. faw! i can smel ’em at this very minit, as i am copying them down.
billy doo. no. i.
“monday morning, 2 o’clock.
“’tis the witching hour of night. luna illumines my chamber, and falls upon my sleepless pillow. by her light i am inditing these words to thee, my algernon. my brave and beautiful, my soul’s lord! when shall the time come when the tedious night shall not separate us, nor the blessed day? twelve! one! two! i have heard the bells chime, and the quarters, and never cease to think of my husband. my adored percy, pardon the girlish confession — i have kissed the letter at this place. will thy lips press it too, and remain for a moment on the spot which has been equally saluted by your
“matilda?”
this was the fust letter, and was brot to our house by one of the poar footmin, fitzclarence, at sicks o’clock in the morning. i thot it was for life and death, and woak master at that extraornary hour, and gave it to him. i shall never forgit him, when he red it; he cramped it up, and he cust and swoar, applying to the lady who roat, the genlmn that brought it, and me who introjuiced it to his notice such a collection of epitafs as i seldum hered, excep at billinxgit. the fact is thiss; for a fust letter, miss’s noat was rather too strong and sentymentle. but that was her way; she was always reading melancholy stoary books —“thaduse of wawsaw,” the “sorrows of macwhirter,” and such like.
after about 6 of them, master never yoused to read them, but handid them over to me, to see if there was anythink in them which must be answered, in order to kip up appearuntses. the next letter is
no. ii.
“beloved! to what strange madnesses will passion lead one! lady griffin, since your avowal yesterday, has not spoken a word to your poor matilda; has declared that she will admit no one (heigho! not even you, my algernon); and has locked herself in her own dressing-room. i do believe that she is jealous, and fancies that you were in love with her! ha, ha! i could have told her another tale— n’est-ce pas? adieu, adieu, adieu! a thousand thousand million kisses!
“m. g.
“monday afternoon, 2 o’clock.”
there was another letter kem before bedtime; for though me and master called at the griffinses, we wairnt aloud to enter at no price. mortimer and fitzclarence grin’d at me, as much as to say we were going to be relations; but i don’t spose master was very sorry when he was obleached to come back without seeing the fare objict of his affeckshns.
well, on chewsdy there was the same game; ditto on wensday; only, when we called there, who should we see but our father, lord crabs, who was waiving his hand to miss kicksey, and saying he should be back to dinner at 7, just as me and master came up the stares. there was no admittns for us though. “bah! bah! never mind,” says my lord, taking his son affeckshnately by the hand. “what, two strings to your bow; ay, algernon? the dowager a little jealous, miss a little lovesick. but my lady’s fit of anger will vanish, and i promise you, my boy, that you shall see your fair one tomorrow.”
and so saying, my lord walked master down stares, looking at him as tender and affeckshnat, and speaking to him as sweet as posbill. master did not know what to think of it. he never new what game his old father was at; only he somehow felt that he had got his head in a net, in spite of his suxess on sunday. i knew it — i knew it quite well, as soon as i saw the old genlmn igsammin him by a kind of smile which came over his old face, and was somethink betwigst the angellic and the direbollicle.
but master’s dowts were cleared up nex day and every thing was bright again. at brexfast, in comes a note with inclosier, boath of witch i here copy:—
no. ix.
“thursday morning.
“victoria, victoria! mamma has yielded at last; not her consent to our union, but her consent to receive you as before; and has promised to forget the past. silly woman, how could she ever think of you as anything but the lover of your matilda? i am in a whirl of delicious joy and passionate excitement. i have been awake all this long night, thinking of thee, my algernon, and longing for the blissful hour of meeting.
“come! m. g.”
this is the inclosier from my lady:—
“i will not tell you that your behavior on sunday did not deeply shock me. i had been foolish enough to think of other plans, and to fancy your heart (if you had any) was fixed elsewhere than on one at whose foibles you have often laughed with me, and whose person at least cannot have charmed you.
“my step-daughter will not, i presume, marry without at least going through the ceremony of asking my consent; i cannot, as yet, give it. have i not reason to doubt whether she will be happy in trusting herself to you?
“but she is of age, and has the right to receive in her own house all those who may be agreeable to her — certainly you, who are likely to be one day so nearly connected with her. if i have honest reason to believe that your love for miss griffin is sincere; if i find in a few months that you yourself are still desirous to marry her, i can, of course, place no further obstacles in your way.
“you are welcome, then, to return to our hotel. i cannot promise to receive you as i did of old; you would despise me if i did. i can promise, however, to think no more of all that has passed between us, and yield up my own happiness for that of the daughter of my dear husband.
“l. e. g.”
well, now, an’t this a manly, straitforard letter enough, and natral from a woman whom we had, to confess the truth, treated most scuvvily? master thought so, and went and made a tender, respeckful speach to lady griffin (a little flumry costs nothink). grave and sorroflle he kist her hand, and, speakin in a very low adgitayted voice, calld hevn to witness how he deplord that his conduct should ever have given rise to such an unfornt ideer; but if he might offer her esteem, respect, the warmest and tenderest admiration, he trusted she would accept the same, and a deal moar flumry of the kind, with dark, sollum glansis of the eyes, and plenty of white pockit-hankercher.
he thought he’d make all safe. poar fool! he was in a net — sich a net as i never yet see set to ketch a roag in.
