Mens Wives | Page 9

the way I take things,"
would this philosopher say. "If I've money, I spend; if I've credit, I
borrow; if I'm dunned, I whitewash; and so you can't beat me down."
Happy elasticity of temperament! I do believe that, in spite of his
misfortunes and precarious position, there was no man in England
whose conscience was more calm, and whose slumbers were more

tranquil, than those of Captain Howard Walker.
As he was sitting under the hands of Mr. Eglantine, he reverted to "the
ladies," whom the latter gentleman professed to expect; said he was a
sly dog, a lucky ditto, and asked him if the ladies were handsome.
Eglantine thought there could be no harm in telling a bouncer to a
gentleman with whom he was engaged in money transactions; and so,
to give the Captain an idea of his solvency and the brilliancy of his
future prospects, "Captain," said he, "I've got a hundred and eighty
pounds out with you, which you were obliging enough to negotiate for
me. Have I, or have I not, two bills out to that amount?"
"Well, my good fellow, you certainly have; and what then?"
"What then? Why, I bet you five pounds to one, that in three months
those bills are paid."
"Done! five pounds to one. I take it."
This sudden closing with him made the perfumer rather uneasy; but he
was not to pay for three months, and so he said, "Done!" too, and went
on: "What would you say if your bills were paid?"
"Not mine; Pike's."
"Well, if Pike's were paid; and the Minories' man paid, and every single
liability I have cleared off; and that Mossrose flung out of winder, and
me and my emporium as free as hair?"
"You don't say so? Is Queen Anne dead? and has she left you a fortune?
or what's the luck in the wind now?"
"It's better than Queen Anne, or anybody dying. What should you say
to seeing in that very place where Mossrose now sits (hang him!)-
-seeing the FINEST HEAD OF 'AIR NOW IN EUROPE? A woman, I
tell you--a slap-up lovely woman, who, I'm proud to say, will soon be
called Mrs. Heglantine, and will bring me five thousand pounds to her
fortune."
"Well, Tiny, this IS good luck indeed. I say, you'll be able to do a bill
or two for ME then, hay? You won't forget an old friend?"
"That I won't. I shall have a place at my board for you, Capting; and
many's the time I shall 'ope to see you under that ma'ogany."
"What will the French milliner say? She'll hang herself for despair,
Eglantine."
"Hush! not a word about 'ER. I've sown all my wild oats, I tell you.
Eglantine is no longer the gay young bachelor, but the sober married

man. I want a heart to share the feelings of mine. I want repose. I'm not
so young as I was: I feel it."
"Pooh! pooh! you are--you are--"
"Well, but I sigh for an 'appy fireside; and I'll have it."
"And give up that club which you belong to, hay?"
"'The Kidneys?' Oh! of course, no married man should belong to such
places: at least, I'LL not; and I'll have my kidneys broiled at home. But
be quiet, Captain, if you please; the ladies appointed to--"
"And is it THE lady you expect? eh, you rogue!"
"Well, get along. It's her and her Ma."
But Mr. Walker determined he wouldn't get along, and would see these
lovely ladies before he stirred.
The operation on Mr. Walker's whiskers being concluded, he was
arranging his toilet before the glass in an agreeable attitude: his neck
out, his enormous pin settled in his stock to his satisfaction, his eyes
complacently directed towards the reflection of his left and favourite
whisker. Eglantine was laid on a settee, in an easy, though melancholy
posture; he was twiddling the tongs with which he had just operated on
Walker with one hand, and his right-hand ringlet with the other, and he
was thinking--thinking of Morgiana; and then of the bill which was to
become due on the 16th; and then of a light-blue velvet waistcoat with
gold sprigs, in which he looked very killing, and so was trudging round
in his little circle of loves, fears, and vanities. "Hang it!" Mr. Walker
was thinking, "I AM a handsome man. A pair of whiskers like mine are
not met with every day. If anybody can see that my tuft is dyed, may I
be--" When the door was flung open, and a large lady with a curl on her
forehead, yellow shawl, a green-velvet bonnet with feathers, half-boots,
and a drab gown with tulips and other large exotics painted on it--when,
in a word, Mrs. Crump and