“Why, when I invite you to my house, ma’am,” said Bounderby, opening his eyes, “I should hope you want no other invitation.”

“No, indeed, sir,” returned Mrs. Sparsit, “I should hope not. Say no more, sir. I would, sir, I could see you gay again.”

“What do you mean, ma’am?” blustered Bounderby.

“Sir,” rejoined Mrs. Sparsit, “there was wont to be an elasticity in you which I sadly miss. Be buoyant, sir!”

Mr. Bounderby, under the influence of this difficult adjuration, backed up by her compassionate eye, could only scratch his head in a feeble and ridiculous manner, and afterwards assert himself at a distance, by being heard to bully the small fry of business all the morning.