Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 347: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

(ge ee eee ee ee C— * es ee A BRE! JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. deen markets filling his pockets with haddocks, until he was brought up before my very particular friend Baillie Owlhead of the Gallowgate, who sent him to the Tolbooth? And that reminds me of what the Widow Glenbucket i “Hat and drink, Dominie,” interrupted Salt- coats, “and leave the Widow Glenbucket to re- pose quietly in her grave, where she has been for so many years. I do believe that you are in love with her image!” ** It’s just that,” said the Dominie; “and when I inherited my ancestral property the other day, I should certainly have offered her a pinch of snuff I mean my hand—only she is dead. Of course I didn’t mean the snuff—because she never took it. And that reminds me But I forget what I was going tosay—I know it was something good—and I will tell you presently.” Meanwhile Mr. Saltcoats had resumed his place af table, and I had likewise sat down—but not to join in the banquet. A waiter now entered the room, and brought me a small parcel of some goods which I had purchased at a neighbouring shop before returning to the hotel. I had ordered the bill to be sent round, as I had not change enough in my purse at the time to liquidate it. I begged my friends to excuse me for a few minutes ; and I hastened up to my chamber to procure the re- quisite money. On descending, I paid the trades- man his demand; and he was signing me the receipt in the porter’s lodge, when a carriage entered the court-yard of the hotel. It was a hired equipage; and from it alighted the Seotch dame and her toady, who were returning from the theatre. The toady came to the porter’s lodge and asked if there were any letters. The porter took down several from a shelf; and saying, “ There is one,’—presented it to Miss Cornwall. Without intending to be impertinently curious, without indeed having any ulterior purpose in view—but simply in a listless mechanical manner, I happened to glance at the address on the letter thus handed to the toady; and what was my sur- prise on perceiving that it was directed to ** Madame Glenbucket.” I started with sudden amazement : the Scotch lawyer’s tale came rushing back to my memory; and darting from the porter’s lodge, I flew to the spot where the Scotch dame was waiting at the foot of a staircase for the re- turn of her toady. * A thousand pardons, madam,” [ said, “ for the seeming impertinence of the question: but have I the honour of addressing Mrs. Glenbucket ?” “To be sure, sir—that is my name,” she an- swered, good-humouredly. “ And may I inquire whether you once lived in Edinburgh—and whether sf But I stopped short: for I perceived that the widow’s countenance, already rubicund enough, became redder still; and I was at once made aware that I had rushed precipitately upon delicate ground, instead of approaching it gently and cautiously. “Well, sir,” she said, somewhat tarfly, in spite of her habitual good-humour, “ and what if I did once live in Edinburgh P—what then P” * Simply, madam,” I responded, “that I may be enabled to introduce you to some old acquaint- ances. Pray do not look offended: all that I know of you is far more to your credit than other- wise ie —— nr “Well, sir,” said the widow, brightening up, * but who——Dear me, Miss Cornwall!” ghe con- tinued, now addressing the toady who had just joined us; “I am so flurried! If I had but a leetle drop of braun water, [I mean! This young gentleman | “ For shame of you, sir!” criel the toady, dart- ing a fierce look upon me. “How dare you say anything improper to a lady who has the highest connections? If you mean what is fair and honourable, sir Y “Don’t scold him, Miss Cornwall,” interrupted Mrs. Glenbucket: “he meant no harm. What he was saying was only natural enough 4 “To be sure, my dear madam!” hastily inter- posed the toady. “ How could he be otherwise than struck by your appearance? And as for choosing the bottom of a staircase communicating with the court-yard of an hotel for popping the question, it’s the most romantic thing I ever knew in all my life. But what isthe young gentleman’s name ?” “T really don’t know his name,” answered the Widow Glenbucket, laughing good humouredly at the error into which the toady had evidently leapt. * But as for popping the question 2 “ Oh dear me, no! it has really nothing to Jo with the name!” said Miss Cornwall. “ Of course it’s all natural enough: we shall know his name by and bye. I have no doubt it is a pretty one Plantagenet or Jones—Tudor or Smith—Cavendish or Simkins.” ** Miss Cornwall had been rushing on in her parlance with exceeding volubility ; and I could not help smiling at the consummate art with which she prepared her mistress and herself to admire my name, whatever it might be—whether belong- ing to aristocracy’s highest range of nomenclature, or whether to the commonest plebeian order. But I now managed to slip in a word edgeways; and with a smile I said, “ Ecan assure you, Miss Corn- wall, that there has been no popping the question at all to Mrs. Glenbucket.” “Then, my dear sir,” said the toady eagerly, and affecting much tender confusion, “if you have been speaking to my dear patroness on my account, and proposing for me to her ¢ “IT can assure you, Miss Cornwall,” I interrupted her, half-good humouredly and half-ironically, “how- ever much I might be flattered by the prospect of such an alliance, I am not in a condition to aspire to it.” “Now don’t be foolish, Miss Cornwall!” said the Widow Glenbucket : “but do hold your tongues and let me hear what this gentleman has to say.” “ May I venture to ask,” I continued, “if you remember a gentleman named Dominie Clack- mannan—and another named Mr. Saltcoats ?” “ Do I remember them ?” exclaimed the widew, in a perfect ecstacy of delight. ‘“ Ob, yes—that indeed Ido! What? the Dominie with his snuff, and his anecdotes, and his hard names? And Mr. Saltcoats who used to be so jocular and so funny— and who ate and drank so much ?” “And would you like to see them, Mrs. Glen- bucket ?” I inquired. “Ts it possible that they are here?” asked the widow quickly : then as a sudden shade came over her countenance, she added in a mournful voice, * But I am afraid ve 22 | ' DOOKS (C (0)