Having nothing whatever to do, our Colonel's movements are of course
exceedingly rapid, and he has the very shortest time to spend in any
single place. That evening, Saturday, and the next day, Sunday, when he
will faithfully accompany his dear old nurse to church. And what a
festival is that day for her, when she has her Colonel and that beautiful
brilliant boy of his by her side, and Mr. Hicks, the curate, looking at
him, and the venerable Dr. Bulders himself eyeing him from the pulpit,
and all the neighbours fluttering and whispering, to be sure, who can be
that fine military gentleman, and that splendid young man sitting by old
Mrs. Mason, and leading her so affectionately out of church? That
Saturday and Sunday the Colonel will pass with good old Mason, but on
Monday he must be off; on Tuesday he must be in London, he has important
business in London,--in fact, Tom Hamilton, of his regiment, comes up for
election at the Oriental on that day, and on such an occasion could
Thomas Newcome be absent? He drives away from the King's Arms through a
row of smirking chambermaids, smiling waiters, and thankful ostlers,
accompanied to the post-chaise, of which the obsequious Taplow shuts the
door; and the Boscawen Room pronounces him that night to be a trump; and
the whole of the busy town, ere the next day is over, has heard of his
coming and departure, praised his kindliness and generosity, and no doubt
contrasted it with the different behaviour of the Baronet, his brother,
who has gone for some time by the ignominious sobriquet of Screwcome, in
the neighbourhood of his ancestral hall.
Pages:
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370