observed that his face was red; he clutched his walking-stick tightly in his left hand; his right hand was trembling, as if it wanted to jump up to his hat. 'Here she comes! Look, look!' he whispered.
Directing my eyes towards the lines of carriages which rolled past us, I observed a girl in a victoria; by her side sat a portly lady of middle age. The girl was decidedly like the lady; a description of the lady would not, I imagine, be interesting. The girl blushed slightly and bowed. George and I lifted our hats. The victoria and its occupants were gone. George leant back with a sigh. After a moment, he said,—
'Well, that was her.'
There was expectancy in his tone.
'She has an extremely prepossessing appearance,' I observed.
'There isn't,' said George, 'a girl in London to touch her. Sam, old boy, I believe—I believe she likes me a bit.'
'I'm sure she must, George,' said I; and, indeed, I thought so.
'The Governor's infernally unreasonable,' said George fretfully.
'Oh, you've mentioned it to him?'
'I sounded him. Oh, you may be sure he didn't see what I was up to. I put it quite generally. He talked rot about getting on in the world. Who wants to get on?'
'Who, indeed?' said I. 'It is only changing what you are for something no better.'
