#White lion till death do us part full#

Miss Matilda gave another look round, and then going to the end of the hearthrug, she very delicately lifted up the corner of a thick wool antimacassar, when a little, sharp, black nose peeped up, and a pair of full black eyes stared at her. “Then go and be quite ready to fill it, Edward,” said Miss Matilda, not daring to interfere with the Mede-like laws of the master of the house.Īnd Edward departed to finish his own breakfast, and confide to the cook his determination that if that old tabby was to be always worriting him to death, he would give warning. “Please, ’m, Sir Hampton said it was to come in at nine punctually, and it wants a quarter.” The wallet was duly deposited in the indicated place. “Place it beside Sir Hampton’s chair, Edward,” said Miss Matilda. So Miss Matilda preened her feathers, frowned, and waited the return of Edward with a locked wallet of leather, bearing the Rea crest-a peacock with expanded tail, the motto “ Floreat majestas”-and, in large letters on the brass plate, the words, “Sir Hampton Rea, Tolcarne.” But the place was scrupulously well kept even the great bay window, looking out upon sloping green lawn, flower beds, and clumps of evergreens, backed up by a wall of firs, was perfectly clean.

The footman made the best of his way out, and Miss Matilda inspected the well-spread breakfast table through a large, square, gold-rimmed eyeglass walked to the sideboard, upon which were sundry cold meats and finished with a glance round the handsomely furnished room, ready to be down upon a speck of dust. Miss Matilda Rea, a rather compressed, squeezy lady of forty-five, shuddered, and rearranged her black net mittens. Nothing is more annoying to visitors than to hear servants make grammatical mistakes.” “Yes, mum-galoshes are,” said Edward “and the letter-bag are just come into the kitchen. “Goloshes is in the plural, Edward, and should be are-mind that: goloshes are.” “Did see, mum,” said Edward, who was wise in his generation, and had learned the art of making his head save his heels-“goloshes is in the lobby.” “Dear, dear, dear, dear! Then of course they put on their goloshes! Go and see if they’re in the lobby, Edward.” “Look if they’re hanging in the hall, Edward.”Įdward walked stiffly out, closed the door, “made a face” at it, and returned at the end of a minute. “Dear me! and such a damp morning, too! Did they take their waterproofs?” “They went out for a walk nearly an hour ago, mum.”

“And did Smith take up her ladyship’s hot water?” “Are you sure Sir Hampton has been called?” A stiff, high-shouldered footman turned round as he reached the breakfast-room door.

White lion till death do us part