Chapter One. The First Morning. “Remember, Hazel,” said Mrs Thorne, “remember this—we may be reduced in circumstances; we may have been compelled by misfortune to come down into this wretched little town, and to live in this miserable, squeezy, poorly-furnished house or cottage, with the light kept out by the yellow glass, and scarcely a chimney that does not smoke; we may be compelled to dress... more...

Chapter One. Number 9A, Albemarle Square. “Don’t drink our sherry, Charles?” Mr Preenham, the butler, stood by the table in the gloomy servants’ hall, as if he had received a shock. “No, sir; I took ’em up the beer at first, and they shook their heads and asked for wine, and when I took ’em the sherry they shook their heads again, and the one who speaks English said they want... more...

In a Fog. “Ugh! what a night! And I used to grumble about Hogley Marsh! Why, it’s like living in a drain!” Ramillies Street, W.C., was certainly not attractive at twelve o’clock on that December night, for it had been snowing in the early part of the evening; that snow was suffering from a fall of blacks: and as evil communications corrupt good manners, the evil communication of the London soot... more...

Medical and Legal. “But it seems so shocking, sir.” “Yes, madam,” said the doctor, “very sad indeed. You had better get that prescription made up at once.” “And him drenched with physic!” cried Mrs Dunn; “when it doesn’t do him a bit of good.” “Not very complimentary to me, Mrs Dunn,” said the doctor smiling. “Which I didn’t mean any harm, sir; but wouldn’t it be better... more...

Chapter One. In Raybeck Square. “Oh, you wicked old woman! Ah, you dare to cry, and I’ll send you to bed.” “No, no, auntie, don’t, please. What will dear Isabel think? You’re not going to spoil a delightful evening?” “Of course she is not. Here, old lady; have another glass of claret—medicinally.” Dr Chester jumped up, gave his sister and the visitor a merry look, took the claret to... more...

Chapter One. Auntie and her Darling. “Don’t eat too much marmalade, Sydney dear. It may make you bilious.” “Oh, no, auntie dear, I’ll be careful.” “You have a great deal of butter on your bread, dear?” “Yes, auntie; that’s the beauty of it Miller says—” “Who is Miller, Syd dear?” “Our chemistry chap at Loamborough. He shows us how when you mix acids and alkalis together... more...

A Chat in a Boat. “Bother the old fish!” “Yes; they won’t bite.” “It’s no good, Perry; they are having their siesta. Let’s get in the shade and have one too.” “What! in the middle of the day—go to sleep? No, thank you. I’m not a foreigner.” “More am I; but you come and live out here for a bit, and you’ll be ready enough to do as the Romans—I mean the Spaniards—do.”... more...

Part of the Garrison. “Hullo, Claude, going for a walk?” “Yes, papa.” “Alone?” “No: Mary is going with me.” “Humph! If you were as giddy as Mary, I’d—I’d—” “What, papa?” “Don’t know; something bad. But, Claude, my girl.” “Yes, dear?” “Why the dickens don’t you dress better? Look at... more...

Down in Devon. “Then you’re a villain!” “Nonsense, Mary; be reasonable.” “Reasonable, Captain Armstrong! I am reasonable, and I am telling you the truth. You are a villain!” “Why, you foolish girl, what did you expect?” “That you would be an officer and a gentleman. Once more, is it true that you are going to be married to that lady?” “Well,... more...

Chapter One. “You, Tom Jones, let that pot-lid alone.” It was a big brown-faced woman who said that crossly, and a big rough-looking bugler, in the uniform of the 200th Fusiliers, with belts, buttons and facings looking very clean and bright, but the scarlet cloth ragged and stained from the rain and mud, and sleeping in it anywhere, often without shelter, who dropped the lid as if it were hot and... more...