"There is always plenty, Herbert," said I, to say something encouraging.
"O yes! and so the dustman says, I believe, with the strongest approval,
and so does the marine-store shop in the back street. Gravely, Handel,
for the subject is grave enough, you know how it is as well as I do. I
suppose there was a time once when my father had not given matters up;
but if ever there was, the time is gone. May I ask you if you have ever
had an opportunity of remarking, down in your part of the country,
that the children of not exactly suitable marriages are always most
particularly anxious to be married?"
This was such a singular question, that I asked him in return, "Is it
so?"
"I don't know," said Herbert, "that's what I want to know. Because it
is decidedly the case with us. My poor sister Charlotte, who was next me
and died before she was fourteen, was a striking example. Little Jane
is the same. In her desire to be matrimonially established, you
might suppose her to have passed her short existence in the perpetual
contemplation of domestic bliss. Little Alick in a frock has already
made arrangements for his union with a suitable young person at Kew. And
indeed, I think we are all engaged, except the baby."
"Then you are?" said I.
"I am," said Herbert; "but it's a secret."
I assured him of my keeping the secret, and begged to be favored with
further particulars. He had spoken so sensibly and feelingly of my
weakness that I wanted to know something about his strength.
"May I ask the name?" I said.
"Name of Clara," said Herbert.
"Live in London?"
"Yes, perhaps I ought to mention," said Herbert, who had become
curiously crestfallen and meek, since we entered on the interesting
theme, "that she is rather below my mother's nonsensical family notions.
Her father had to do with the victualling of passenger-ships. I think he
was a species of purser."
"What is he now?" said I.
"He's an invalid now," replied Herbert.
"Living on--?"
"On the first floor," said Herbert. Which was not at all what I meant,
for I had intended my question to apply to his means. "I have never seen
him, for he has always kept his room overhead, since I have known Clara.
But I have heard him constantly. He makes tremendous rows,--roars, and
pegs at the floor with some frightful instrument." In looking at me and
then laughing heartily, Herbert for the time recovered his usual lively
manner.