FullReads

TOUCHIT [aside].–Tipsy old coal-merchant! I did, and he helped himself too.

JULIA.–And you were always our best friend, Captain Touchit. When our misfortunes came, you got me this situation with Mrs. Milliken–and, and–don’t you see?–

TOUCHIT.–Well–what?

JULIA [laughing].–I think it is best, under the circumstances, that the ladies here should suppose I am engaged to be married–or or, they might be–might be jealous, you understand. Women are sometimes jealous of others,–especially mothers and mothers-in-law.

TOUCHIT.–Oh, you arch schemer! And it is for that you cover up that beautiful hair of yours, and wear that demure cap?

JULIA [slyly].–I am subject to rheumatism in the head, Captain Touchit.

TOUCHIT.–It is for that you put on the spectacles, and make yourself look a hundred years old?

JULIA.–My eyes are weak, Captain Touchit.

TOUCHIT.–Weak with weeping for Tom Flight. You hypocrite! Show me your eyes!

MISS P.–Nonsense!

TOUCHIT.–Show me your eyes, I say, or I’ll tell about Tom Flight and that he has been married at Madras these two years.

MISS P.–Oh, you horrid man! [takes glasses off.] There.

TOUCHIT.–Translucent orbs! beams of flashing light! lovely lashes veiling celestial brightness! No, they haven’t cried much for Tom Flight, that faithless captain! nor for Lawrence O’Reilly, that killing Editor. It is lucky you keep the glasses on them, or they would transfix Horace Milliken, my friend the widower here. DO you always wear them when you are alone with him?

MISS P.–I never AM alone with him. Bless me! If Lady Kicklebury thought my eyes were–well, well–you know what I mean,–if she thought her son-in-law looked at me, I should be turned out of doors the next day, I am sure I should. And then, poor Mr. Milliken! he never looks at ME–heaven help him! Why, he can’t see me for her ladyship’s nose and awful caps and ribbons! He sits and looks at the portrait yonder, and sighs so. He thinks that he is lost in grief for his wife at this very moment.

TOUCHIT.–What a woman that was–eh, Julia–that departed angel! What a temper she had before her departure!

MISS P.–But the wind was tempered to the lamb. If she was angry–the lamb was so very lamblike, and meek, and fleecy.

TOUCHIT.–And what a desperate flirt the departed angel was! I knew half a dozen fellows, before her marriage, whom she threw over, because Milliken was so rich.

MISS P.–She was consistent at least, and did not change after marriage, as some ladies do; but flirted, as you call it, just as much as before. At Paris, young Mr. Verney, the attache, was never out of the house: at Rome, Mr. Beard, the artist, was always drawing pictures of her: at Naples, when poor Mr. M. went away to look after his affairs at St. Petersburg, little Count Posilippo was for ever coming to learn English and practise duets. She scarcely ever saw the poor children–[changing her manner as Lady KICKLEBURY enters] Hush–my lady!

TOUCHIT.–You may well say, “poor children,” deprived of such a woman! Miss Prior, whom I knew in very early days–as your ladyship knows–was speaking–was speaking of the loss our poor friend sustained.

LADY K.–Ah, sir, what a loss! [looking at the picture.]

TOUCHIT.–What a woman she was–what a superior creature!

LADY K.–A creature–an angel!

TOUCHIT.–Mercy upon us! how she and my lady used to quarrel! [aside.] What a temper!

LADY K.–Hm–oh, yes–what a temper [rather doubtfully at first].

TOUCHIT.–What a loss to Milliken and the darling children!

MISS PRIOR.–Luckily they have YOU with them madam.

LADY K.–And I will stay with them, Miss Prior; I will stay with them! I will never part from Horace, I am determined.

MISS P.–Ah! I am very glad you stay, for if I had not YOU for a protector, I think you know I must go, Lady Kicklebury. I think you know there are those who would forget my attachment to these darling children, my services to–to her–and dismiss the poor governess. But while you stay I can stay, dear Lady Kicklebury! With you to defend me from jealousy I need not QUITE be afraid.