young people; but he is not sure that their house would be a good house for young people proposing to remain single, since the contemplation of its domestic bliss might induce them to change their minds. He will not apply this to anyone present; certainly not to their darling little Georgiana. Again thank you! Neither, by the by, will he apply it to his friend Fledgeby. He thanks Veneering for the feeling manner in which he referred to their common friend Fledgeby, for he holds that gentleman in the highest estimation. Thank you. In fact (returning unexpectedly to Fledgeby), the better you know him, the more you find in him that you desire to know. Again thank you! In his dear Sophronia’s name and in his own, thank you!
Mrs. Lammle has sat quite still, with her eyes cast down upon the tablecloth. As Mr. Lammle’s address ends, Twemlow once more turns to her involuntarily, not cured yet of that often recurring impression that she is going to speak to him. This time she really is going to speak to him. Veneering is talking with his other next neighbour, and she speaks in a low voice.
“ Mr. Twemlow.”
He answers, “I beg your pardon? Yes?” Still a little doubtful, because of her not looking at him.
“You have the soul of a gentleman, and I know I may trust you. Will you give me the opportunity of saying a few words to you when you come upstairs?”
“Assuredly. I shall be honoured.”
“Don’t seem to do so, if you please, and don’t think it inconsistent if my manner should be more careless than my words. I may be watched.”
Intensely astonished, Twemlow puts his hand to his forehead, and sinks back in his chair meditating. Mrs. Lammle rises. All rise. The ladies