Bowles not only became a feature in Bowling Green society, but indeed
considered himself necessary to the dignity of the family he was
serving, and in duty bound to fight any coachman who would make the
slightest insinuations against it. This got him into numerous
difficulties, for there was not a coachman in the neighborhood that did
not set him down as a fair subject for unpleasant remarks. One called
him a dumpling-stomached darkey; while another said he must have been
brought up in the family and fed on puddings.

"Can't be much of a family," a third would say, "to have such a
short-legged shadow as you for coachman, and only one horse. And such a
livery as that! Why don't your mistress dress you like a man?"

Mr. Bowles had several times found himself measuring the pavement and
his hat in the gutter, as a reward for his attempts to resent such
indignities, which he considered were offered to the family rather than
himself. There was so close a resemblance between the circumference of
the lady and her coachman as to seriously damage the pretensions of the
family, and bring down upon it no end of ridicule.

There was another serious impediment to the lady's pretentions, and that
was no less a person than Mrs. Topman. No sooner had the Chapmans set up
in Bowling Green than that lady took them into her keeping, promising
them no end of introductions to nice people. Now, Mrs. Topman was one
of those social afflictions which are found everywhere, whose touch is
like contagion, and who take strangers into their keeping only to do
them more harm than good. I have called them social afflictions for want
of a better term. Mrs. Topman was the highest example of the species.
She had been beating about on the outskirts of society without gaining
an entrance into it until she was like a faded bouquet that had lost its