"
"I read marvels of his works in an English journal, which one sends me."
Clive was not by when this letter reached his father. Clive was in his
painting-room, and lest he should meet his son, and in order to devise
the best means of breaking the news to the lad, Thomas Newcome retreated
out of doors; and from the Oriental he crossed Oxford Street, and from
Oxford Street he stalked over the roomy pavements of Gloucester Place,
and there he bethought him how he had neglected Mrs. Hobson Newcome of
late, and the interesting family of Bryanstone Square. So he went to
leave his card at Maria's door: her daughters, as we have said, are quite
grown girls. If they have been lectured, and learning, and back-boarded,
and practising, and using the globes, and laying in a store of 'ologies,
ever since, what a deal they must know! Colonel Newcome was admitted to
see his nieces, and Consummate Virtue, their parent. Maria was charmed to
see her brother-in-law; she greeted him with reproachful tenderness:
"Why, why," her fine eyes seemed to say, "have you so long neglected us?
Do you think because I am wise, and gifted, and good, and you are, it
must be confessed, a poor creature with no education, I am not also
affable? Come, let the prodigal be welcomed by his virtuous relatives:
come and lunch with us, Colonel!" He sate down accordingly to the family
tiffin.
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