But the Puffles is ladies--and gentlemen. The servants below all
give it up to them that they're real gentlefolk. But--"
"Well?"
"She demeaned herself terribly with young Tazlehurst. They all said as
there were more where that came from."
"What should they mean by that?"
"She'd indulge in low 'abits,--such as never would have been put up with
at Buston Hall,--a-cursing and a-swearing--"
"Miss Puffle!"
"Not herself,--I don't say that; but it's like enough if you 'ad heard
all. But them as lets others do it almost does it themselves. And them
as lets others drink sperrrits o' mornings come nigh to having a dram
down their own throats."
"Oh laws!" exclaimed Mr. Prosper, thinking of the escape he had had.
"You wouldn't have liked it, sir, if there had been a bottle of gin in
the bedroom!" Here Mr. Prosper hid his face among the bedclothes. "It
ain't all that comes silk out of the skein that does to make a purse
of."
There were difficulties in the pursuit of matrimony of which Mr. Prosper
had not thought. His imagination at once pictured to himself a bride
with a bottle of gin under her pillow, and he went on shivering till
Matthew almost thought that he had been attacked by an ague-fit.
"I shall give it up, at any rate," he said, after a pause.
Pages:
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779