'Quite sure,' replied Foozle, in the most matter-of-course voice.
[Illustration: MR. ROBERT FOOZLE]
'The deuce!' exclaimed Jawleyford, stamping his foot upon the soft rug,
adding, 'it never rains but it pours!'
'Have you any note, or anything?' asked Mrs. Jawleyford, who had followed
Robert Foozle into the room.
'Yes, I have a note,' replied he, diving into the inner pocket of his coat,
and producing one. The note was a letter--a letter from Mrs. Foozle to Mrs.
Jawleyford, three sides and crossed; and seeing the magnitude thereof, Mrs.
Jawleyford quietly put it into her reticule, observing, 'that she hoped Mr.
and Mrs. Foozle were well?'
'Yes, they are well,' replied Robert, notwithstanding he had express orders
to say that his papa had the toothache, and his mamma the earache.
Jawleyford then gave a furious ring at the bell for dinner, and in due
course of time the party of six proceeded to a table for twelve. Sponge
pawned Mrs. Jawleyford off upon Robert Foozle, which gave Sponge the right
to the fair Amelia, who walked off on his arm with a toss of her head at
Emily, as though she thought him the finest, sprightliest man under the
sun.
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