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shall leave to be developed in the progress of our story

A sheer spirit of opposition, which often involved him in little embarrassments, had supplied him with a coachman whose chief merit was his unfitness for the situation. “ All the world says I'm too old, and too deaf, and too stupid to be a coachman any longer,” said the man, who wanted to be assisted in establishing a shop. “ All the world lies,” was the blunt reply; "and as nobody else will engage you, I will.” With his man-servant, John Trotman, our merchant had been acquainted when there was much less difference in their respective situations, John having been junior mate in the merchant-ship in which his present master had made several voyages as supercargo. Hence there was

was a familiarity between them much more in accordance with former than with present relations, and utterly opposed to all the conventional usages that regulate the intercourse between master and man—at least in England. Though John had long quitted the sea-service, he retained

much of its blunt roughness ; his curt and captious, and sometimes impertinent manner, being rather assignable to an ignorance of proper respect than to a want of it. From his remarkable taciturnity-for he rarely spoke except in monosyllables—his messmates had bestowed upon him the nickname of Mumchance; but though his tongue might be indolent, his features were active and expressive, while his eyes, ears, and limbs, made amends by their quickness for the dulness that was occasionally imputed to him on account of his unsociable silence.

But the most singular personage of the merchant's household was Mrs. Glossop, the housekeeper; an office to which she had been appointed, with very liberal wages, as a reward for having most carefully nursed him during the severe fit of asthma, followed by an attack of influenza, which had finally determined his departure from London. For many years she had filled a similar situation in the family of his London partner, Mr. Gubbins, whose service she quitted solely because she declined accompanying him to Smyrna. Unfortunately, however, she had accompanied Mrs. Gubbins and her family to Paris, where they had resided for two or three months, in which interval she had picked up, by ear, a few French phrases, and delighted to interlard them with her discourse, rarely failing to introduce them with a curious infelicity, and generally vaunting her knowledge of the language when she was most unequivocally betraying her gross ignorance of it. As her ordinary English discourse might not seldom have authorized her to claim relationship with the Malaprop family, it may be surmised that her compound dialect was by no means of the purest lingua franca. Fat, fair, fonder of tawdry dress than quite became her situation, and, though verging towards fifty, still looking as if she were perfectly well aware that she had once been good-looking, Mrs. Glossop had received a very high character from her late mistress as “a

a bustling, honest, and respectable body.”

With a housekeeper of such a discreet age and unblemished reputation, Adam Brown, himself an old bachelor of sixty, might have felt himself justified in defying the breath of scandal, had he troubled his head about it; but thoughts of what the world might think, or say, or surmise as to his habits or proceedings, never entered into his mind. In the consciousness that no imputations could justly rest upon his own character, he sturdily scorned all the conventionalities of English society and manners, continuing to act, dress, talk, and smoke his chibouque, with the same perfect independence as when he followed his own whims and fancies at Smyrna. In accordance with this freedom, and perhaps under a vague notion that true gallantry has reference to the sex rather than to the rank of its object, he would not permit Mrs. Glossop to climb up into the dickey of the carriage when they started from London, but insisted on her taking a place inside, spite of her repeated exclamations of “O mon doo, Sir, point de two; I couldn't think of such a thing toutafait. It's quite entirely hors de combat. Riding inside always gives me a violent tout autre chose in the head, and besides, Sir, I know my place better.”

“ And I know it better still,” replied her master, pushing her in not very ceremoniously, and taking a seat beside her, when he amused himself with his companion for some time,—for he had a touch of waggery in his composition,—by drawing out an account of her Parisian adventures, and laughing at her misplaced Gallicisms, though at other times her farrago would move his ire, and draw down an angry order “to leave off her cursed Frenchified gibberish, and speak English like a man.”

There was both pride in the humility, and humility in the pride, of Adam Brown, who delighted in referring to his humble origin, and never testified so high an enjoyment of his present wealth as when it afforded a contrast to his former poverty. With this feeling he had ordered a pair of post-horses to be added to the carriage at the last stage, that his triumphal return to Woodcote might the more strikingly remind

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