Let all couples, present or to come, therefore profit by the
example of Mr. and Mrs. Leaver, themselves a loving couple in the
first degree.
Mr. and Mrs. Leaver are pronounced by Mrs. Starling, a widow lady
who lost her husband when she was young, and lost herself about the
same-time--for by her own count she has never since grown five
years older--to be a perfect model of wedded felicity. 'You would
suppose,' says the romantic lady, 'that they were lovers only just
now engaged. Never was such happiness! They are so tender, so
affectionate, so attached to each other, so enamoured, that
positively nothing can be more charming!'
'Augusta, my soul,' says Mr. Leaver. 'Augustus, my life,' replies
Mrs. Leaver. 'Sing some little ballad, darling,' quoth Mr. Leaver.
'I couldn't, indeed, dearest,' returns Mrs. Leaver. 'Do, my dove,'
says Mr. Leaver. 'I couldn't possibly, my love,' replies Mrs.
Leaver; 'and it's very naughty of you to ask me.' 'Naughty,
darling!' cries Mr. Leaver. 'Yes, very naughty, and very cruel,'
returns Mrs. Leaver, 'for you know I have a sore throat, and that
to sing would give me great pain. You're a monster, and I hate
you. Go away!' Mrs. Leaver has said 'go away,' because Mr. Leaver
has tapped her under the chin: Mr. Leaver not doing as he is bid,
but on the contrary, sitting down beside her, Mrs.
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