blandest and most captivating looks on Mr. Cudmore, saying--as plainly
as looks could say--"Cudmore, you're wanting." Whether the youth did,
or did not understand, I am unable to record: I can only say, the appeal
was made without acknowledgment. Mrs. Clanfrizzle again essayed, and by
a little masonic movement of her hand to the tea-pot, and a sly glance at
the hob, intimated her wish--still hopelessly; at last there was nothing
for it but speaking; and she donned her very softest voice, and most
persuasive tone, saying--

"Mr. Cudmore, I am really very troublesome: will you permit me to ask
you?"--

"Is it for the kettle, ma'am?" said Cudmore, with a voice that startled
the whole room, disconcerting three whist parties, and so absorbing the
attention of the people at loo, that the pool disappeared without any one
being able to account for the circumstance.

"Is it for the kettle, ma'am?"

"If you will be so very kind," lisped the hostess.

"Well, then, upon my conscience, you are impudent," said Cudmore, with
his face crimsoned to the ears, and his eyes flashing fire.

"Why, Mr. Cudmore," began the lady, "why, really, this is so strange.
Why sir, what can you mean?"

"Just that," said the imperturbable jib, who now that his courage was up,
dared every thing.