'My dear Mr. Sponge!--I am delighted to see you!' exclaimed Mr. Jawleyford,
rising from his easy-chair, and throwing his Disraeli's _Bentinck_ aside,
as Mr. Spigot, the butler, in a deep, sonorous voice, announced our worthy
friend. 'This is, indeed, most truly kind of you,' continued Jawleyford,
advancing to meet him; and getting our friend by both hands, he began
working his arms up and down like the under man in a saw-pit. 'This is,
indeed, most truly kind,' he repeated; 'I assure you I shall never forget
it. It's just what I like--it's just what Mrs. Jawleyford likes--it's just
what we _all_ like--coming without fuss or ceremony. Spigot!' he added,
hailing old Pomposo as the latter was slowly withdrawing, thinking what a
humbug his master was--'Spigot!' he repeated in a louder voice; 'let the
ladies know Mr. Sponge is here. Come to the fire, my dear fellow,'
continued Jawleyford, clutching his guest by the arm, and drawing him
towards where an ample grate of indifferent coals was crackling and
spluttering beneath a magnificent old oak mantelpiece of the richest and
costliest carved work.
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