The Disowned — Complete

CHAPTER XXI.

 Mrs. Trinket. What d’ye buy, what d’ye lack, gentlemen? Gloves, ribbons,
 and essences,—ribbons, gloves, and essences.
                          ETHEREGE.

“And so, my love,” said Mr. Copperas, one morning at breakfast, to his wife, his right leg being turned over his left, and his dexter hand conveying to his mouth a huge morsel of buttered cake,—“and, so my love, they say that the old fool is going to leave the jackanapes all his fortune?”

“They do say so, Mr. C.; for my part I am quite out of patience with the art of the young man; I dare say he is no better than he should be; he always had a sharp look, and for aught I know there may be more in that robbery than you or I dreamed of, Mr. Copperas. It was a pity,” continued Mrs. Copperas, upbraiding her lord with true matrimonial tenderness and justice, for the consequences of his having acted from her advice,—“it was a pity, Mr. C., that you should have refused to lend him the pistols to go to the old fellow’s assistance, for then who knows but—”

“I might have converted them into pocket pistols,” interrupted Mr. C., “and not have overshot the mark, my dear—ha, ha, ha!”

“Lord, Mr. Copperas, you are always making a joke of everything.”

“No, my dear, for once I am making a joke of nothing.”

“Well, I declare it’s shameful,” cried Mrs. Copperas, still following up her own indignant meditations, “and after taking such notice of Adolphus, too, and all!”

“Notice, my dear! mere words,” returned Mr. Copperas, “mere words, like ventilators, which make a great deal of air, but never raise the wind; but don’t put yourself in a stew, my love, for the doctors say that copperas in a stew is poison!”

At this moment Mr. de Warens, throwing open the door, announced Mr. Brown; that gentleman entered, with a sedate but cheerful air. “Well, Mrs. Copperas, your servant; any table-linen wanted? Mr. Copperas, how do you do? I can give you a hint about the stocks. Master Copperas, you are looking bravely; don’t you think he wants some new pinbefores, ma’am? But Mr. Clarence Linden, where is he? Not up yet, I dare say. Ah, the present generation is a generation of sluggards, as his worthy aunt, Mrs. Minden, used to say.”

“I am sure,” said Mrs. Copperas, with a disdainful toss of the head, “I know nothing about the young man. He has left us; a very mysterious piece of business indeed, Mr. Brown; and now I think of it, I can’t help saying that we were by no means pleased with your introduction: and, by the by, the chairs you bought for us at the sale were a mere take-in, so slight that Mr. Walruss broke two of them by only sitting down.”

“Indeed, ma’am?” said Mr. Brown, with expostulating gravity; “but then Mr. Walruss is so very corpulent. But the young gentleman, what of him?” continued the broker, artfully turning from the point in dispute.

“Lord, Mr. Brown, don’t ask me: it was the unluckiest step we ever made to admit him into the bosom of our family; quite a viper, I assure you; absolutely robbed poor Adolphus.”

“Lord help us!” said Mr. Brown, with a look which “cast a browner horror” o’er the room, “who would have thought it? and such a pretty young man!”

“Well,” said Mr. Copperas, who, occupied in finishing the buttered cake, had hitherto kept silence, “I must be off. Tom—I mean de Warens—have you stopped the coach?”

“Yees, sir.”

“And what coach is it?”

“It be the Swallow, sir.”

“Oh, very well. And now, Mr. Brown, having swallowed in the roll, I will e’en roll in the Swallow—Ha, ha, ha!—At any rate,” thought Mr. Copperas, as he descended the stairs, “he has not heard that before.”

“Ha, ha!” gravely chuckled Mr. Brown, “what a very facetious, lively gentleman Mr. Copperas is. But touching this ungrateful young man, Mr. Linden, ma’am?”

“Oh, don’t tease me, Mr. Brown, I must see after my domestics: ask Mr. Talbot, the old miser in the next house, the havarr, as the French say.”

“Well, now,” said Mr. Brown, following the good lady down stairs, “how distressing for me! and to say that he was Mrs. Minden’s nephew, too!”

But Mr. Brown’s curiosity was not so easily satisfied, and finding Mr. de Warens leaning over the “front” gate, and “pursuing with wistful eyes” the departing “Swallow,” he stopped, and, accosting him, soon possessed himself of the facts that “old Talbot had been robbed and murdered, but that Mr. Linden had brought him to life again; and that old Talbot had given him a hundred thousand pounds, and adopted him as his son; and that how Mr. Linden was going to be sent to foreign parts, as an ambassador, or governor, or great person; and that how meester and meeses were quite ‘cut up’ about it.”

All these particulars having been duly deposited in the mind of Mr. Brown, they produced an immediate desire to call upon the young gentleman, who, to say nothing of his being so very nearly related to his old customer, Mrs. Minden, was always so very great a favourite with him, Mr. Brown.

Accordingly, as Clarence was musing over his approaching departure, which was now very shortly to take place, he was somewhat startled by the apparition of Mr. Brown—“Charming day, sir,—charming day,” said the friend of Mrs. Minden,—“just called in to congratulate you. I have a few articles, sir, to present you with,—quite rarities, I assure you,—quite presents, I may say. I picked them up at a sale of the late Lady Waddilove’s most valuable effects. They are just the things, sir, for a gentleman going on a foreign mission. A most curious ivory chest, with an Indian padlock, to hold confidential letters,—belonged formerly, sir, to the Great Mogul; and a beautiful diamond snuff-box, sir, with a picture of Louis XIV. on it, prodigiously fine, and will look so loyal too: and, sir, if you have any old aunts in the country, to send a farewell present to, I have some charming fine cambric, a superb Dresden tea set, and a lovely little ‘ape,’ stuffed by the late Lady W. herself.”

“My good sir,” began Clarence.

“Oh, no thanks, sir,—none at all,—too happy to serve a relation of Mrs. Minden,—always proud to keep up family connections. You will be at home to-morrow, sir, at eleven; I will look in; your most humble servant, Mr. Linden.” And almost upsetting Talbot, who had just entered, Mr. Brown bowed himself out.