132 PASSAGE IN THE LIFE OF MR. WATKINS TOTTLE. 



" Pudding here," said Mrs. Parsons. 



" Oh ! it's no use," exclaimed the hoat, who was now rendered 

 desperate. " Here, Tottle ; a glass of wine. It's useless to attempt 

 relating any thing when Mrs. Parsons is present." 



This attack was received in the usual way. Mrs. Parsons talked 

 to Miss Lillerton, and at her bette half; expatiated on the impa- 

 tience of men generally ; hinted that her husband was peculiarly 

 vicious in this respect, and wound up by insinuating that she must 

 be one of the best tempers that ever existed, or she never could put 

 up with it. Really what she had to endure sometimes, was more 

 than any one who saw her in every-day life could by possibility sup- 

 pose. The story was now a painful subject, and therefore Mr. Par- 

 sons declined to enter into any details, and contented himself by stat- 

 ing that the man was a maniac, who had escaped from a neighbour- 

 ing mad-house. 



The cloth was removed; the ladies soon afterwards retired, and Miss 

 Lillerton played the piano in the drawing-room over head very loudly, 

 for the edification of the visitor. Mr. Watkins Tottle and Mr. Gabriel 

 Parsons sat chatting comfortably enough, until the conclusion of the 

 second bottle, when the latter, in proposing an adjournment to the 

 drawing-room, informed Watkins that he had concerted a plan with 

 his wife, for leaving him and Miss Lillerton alone, soon after tea. 



" I say," said Tottle, as they went up stairs, " don't you think it 

 would be better if we put it off till till to-morrow ?" 



" Don't you think it would have been much better if I had left you 

 in that wretched hole I found you in this morning ?" retorted Par- 

 sons, bluntly. 



" Well well I only made a suggestion," said poor Watkins 

 Tottle, with a deep sigh. 



Tea was soon concluded, and Miss Lillerton drawing a small work- 

 table on one side of the fire, and placing a little wooden frame upon 

 it, something like a miniature clay-mill without the horse, was soon 

 busily engaged in making a watch-guard with brown silk. 



t( God bless me !" exclaimed Parsons, starting up with well-feigned 

 surprise, " I've forgotten those confounded letters. Tottle, I know, 

 you'll excuse me." 



If Tottle had been a free agent, he would have allowed no one to 

 leave the room on any pretence, except himself. As it was, how- 

 ever, he was obliged to look cheerful when Parsons quitted the 

 apartment. 



He had scarcely left, when Martha put her head into the room, 

 with " please, Ma'am, you're wanted." 



Mrs. Parsons left the room, shut the door carefully after her, and 

 Mr. Watkins Tottle was left alone with Miss Lillerton. 



For the first five minutes there was a dead silence. Mr. Watkins 

 Tottle was thinking how he should begin, and Miss Lillerton ap- 

 peared to be thinking of nothing. The fire was burning low ; Mr. 

 Watkins Tottle stirred it, and put some coals on. 



" Hem !" coughed Miss Lillerton ; Mr. Watkins Tottle thought the 

 fair creature had spoken " I beg your pardon," said he. 

 " Eh !" 



