"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,