CHAPTER XVIII. 



THE EVENING'S REFLECTIONS. 



"Well, I think he'll do," said our friend to himself, as having 

 reached his bed-room, in accordance with modern fashion, he applied 

 a cedar match to the now somewhat better burnt-up fire, for the 

 purpose of lighting a cigar — a cigar ! in the state-bedroom of Jaw- 

 leyford Court. Having divested himself of his smart blue coat and 

 white waistcoat, and arrayed himself in a gray dressing-gown, he 

 adjusted the loose cushions of a recumbent chair, and soused himself 

 into its luxurious depths for a " think over." 



" He has money," mused Sponge, between the copious whiffs of 

 the cigar, " splendid style he lives in, to be sure " (puff), continued 

 he, after another long draw, as he adjusted the ash at the end of the 

 cigar. "Two men in livery" (puff), " one ' out, can't be done for 

 nothing" (puff). What a profusion of plate, too ! " (whiff )—" de- 

 clare I never" (puff) "saw such" (whiff, puff) "magnificence in 

 the whole course of my " (whiff, puff ) "life." 



The cigar being then well under way, he sucked and puffed and 

 whiffed in an apparently vacant stupor, his legs crossed, and his eyes 

 fixed on a projecting coal between the lower bars, as if intent on 

 watching the alternations of flame and gas ; though in reality he was 

 running all the circumstances through his mind, comparing them 

 with his past experience, and speculating on the probable result of 

 the present adventure. 



He had seen a good deal of service in the matrimonial wars, and 

 was entitled to as many bars as the most distinguished peninsular 

 veteran. No woman with money, or the reputation of it, ever wanted 

 an offer while he was in the way, for he would accommodate her at 

 the second or third interview; and always pressed for an immediate 

 fulfilment, lest the " cursed lawyers " should interfere and interrupt 

 their felicity. Somehow or other, the " cursed lawyers " always had 

 interfered ; and as sure as they walked in, Mr. Sponge walked out. 

 He couldn't bear the idea of their coarse, inquisitive inquiries. Ho 

 was too much of a gentleman ! 



Love, light as air, at sight of human ties 

 Spreads his light wings and in a moment flies. 



So Mr. Sponge fled, consoling himself with the reflection that there 

 was no harm done, and hoping for " better luck next time." 



He roved from flower to flower like a butterfly, touching here, 

 alighting there, but always passing away with apparent indifference. 



