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Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush, a fiction by William Makepeace Thackeray |
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MISS SHUM'S HUSBAND - CHAPTER IV |
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_ It was a sad slip on Altamont's part, for no sooner did he go out the next morning than missis went out too. She tor down the street, and never stopped till she came to her pa's house at Pentonwill. She was clositid for an hour with her ma, and when she left her she drove straight to the City. She walked before the Bank, and behind the Bank, and round the Bank: she came home disperryted, having learned nothink. And it was now an extraordinary thing that from Shum's house for the next ten days there was nothing but expyditions into the city. Mrs. S., tho her dropsicle legs had never carred her half so fur before, was eternally on the key veve, as the French say. If she didn't go, Miss Betsy did, or misses did: they seemed to have an attrackshun to the Bank, and went there as natral as an omlibus. At last one day, old Mrs. Shum comes to our house--(she wasn't admitted when master was there, but came still in his absints)-- and she wore a hair of tryumph, as she entered. "Mary," says she, "where is the money your husbind brought to you yesterday?" My master used always to give it to missis when he returned. "The money, ma!" says Mary. "Why here!" And pulling out her puss, she showed a sovrin, a good heap of silver, and an odd-looking little coin. "THAT'S IT! that's it!" cried Mrs. S. "A Queene Anne's sixpence, isn't it, dear--dated seventeen hundred and three?" It was so sure enough: a Queen Ans sixpence of that very date. "Now, my love," says she, "I have found him! Come with me to- morrow, and you shall KNOW ALL!" And now comes the end of my story. . . . . . . The ladies nex morning set out for the City, and I walked behind, doing the genteel thing, with a nosegy and a goold stick. We walked down the New Road--we walked down the City Road--we walked to the Bank. We were crossing from that heddyfiz to the other side of Cornhill, when all of a sudden missis shreeked, and fainted spontaceously away. I rushed forrard, and raised her to my arms: spiling thereby a new weskit and a pair of crimson smalcloes. I rushed forrard. I say, very nearly knocking down the old sweeper who was hobbling away as fast as posibil. We took her to Birch's; we provided her with a hackney-coach and every lucksury, and carried her home to Islington. . . . . . . That night master never came home. Nor the nex night, nor the nex. On the fourth day an octioneer arrived; he took an infantry of the furnitur, and placed a bill in the window. At the end of the wick Altamont made his appearance. He was haggard and pale; not so haggard, however, not so pale as his miserable wife. He looked at her very tendrilly. I may say, it's from him that I coppied MY look to Miss ----. He looked at her very tendrilly and held out his arms. She gev a suffycating shreek, and rusht into his umbraces. "Mary," says he, "you know all now. I have sold my place; I have got three thousand pounds for it, and saved two more. I've sold my house and furnitur, and that brings me another. We'll go abroad and love each other, has formly." And now you ask me, Who he was? I shudder to relate.--Mr. Haltamont SWEP THE CROSSING FROM THE BANK TO CORNHILL!! Of cors, I left his servis. I met him, few years after, at Badden- Badden, where he and Mrs. A. were much respectid, and pass for pipple of propaty. _ |
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