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with confidence； a peerage our had it
that Mr Merdle had set his golden face against a barocy； that he had
plainly intimated to Lord Decimus that a barocy was not enough
for him； that he had said； 'No……a Peerage； or plain Merdle。' This was
reported to have plunged Lord Decimus as nigh to his noble chin in a
slough of doubts as so lofty a person could be sunk。 For the Barnacles；
as a group of themselves in creation； had an idea that such distinctions
belonged to them； and that when a soldier； sailor； or lawyer became
ennobled； they let him in； as it were； by an act of condescension； at
the family door； and immediately shut it again。 Not only （said Rumour）
had the troubled Decimus his own hereditary part in this impression； but
he also knew of several Barnacle claims already on the file； which came
into collision with that of the master spirit。
Right or wrong； Rumour was very busy； and Lord Decimus； while he was； or
was supposed to be； in stately excogitation of the difficulty； lent her
some countenance by taking； on several public occasions； one of those
elephantine trots of his through a jungle of overgrown sentences； waving
Mr Merdle about on his trunk as Gigantic Enterprise； The Wealth of
England； Elasticity； Credit； Capital； Prosperity； and all manner of
blessings。
So quietly did the mowing of the old scythe go on； that fully three
months had passed unnoticed since the two English brothers had been laid
in one tomb in the strangers' cemetery at Rome。 Mr and Mrs Sparkler were
established in their own house： a little mansion； rather of the Tite
Barnacle class； quite a triumph of inconvenience； with a perpetual smell
in it of the day before yesterday's soup and coach…horses； but extremely
dear； as being exactly in the centre of the habitable globe。 In this
enviable abode （and envied it really was by many people）； Mrs Sparkler
had intended to proceed at once to the demolition of the Bosom； when
active hostilities had been suspended by the arrival of the Courier with
his tidings of death。 Mrs Sparkler； who was not unfeeling； had received
them with a violent burst of grief； which had lasted twelve hours；
after which； she had arisen to see about her mourning； and to take every
precaution that could ensure its being as being as Mrs Merdle's。 A
gloom was then cast over more than one distinguished family （according
to the politest sources of intelligence）； and the Courier went back
again。
Mr and Mrs Sparkler had been dining alone； with their gloom cast over
them； and Mrs Sparkler reclined on a drawing…room sofa。 It was a hot
summer Sunday evening。 The residence in the centre of the habitable
globe； at all times stuffed and close as if it had an incurable cold in
its head； was that evening particularly stifling。
The bells of the churches had done their worst in the way of clanging
among the unmelodious echoes of the streets； and the lighted windows of
the churches had ceased to be yellow in the grey dusk； and had died out
opaque black。 Mrs Sparkler； lying on her sofa； looking through an open
window at the opposite side of a narrow street over boxes of mignote
and flowers； was tired of the view。 Mrs Sparkler； looking at another
window where her husband stood in the balcony； was tired of that view。
Mrs Sparkler； looking at herself in her mourning； was even tired of that
view： though； naturally； not so tired of that as of the other two。
'It's like lying in a well；' said Mrs Sparkler； changing her position
fretfully。 'Dear me； Edmund； if you have anything to say； why don't you
say it？'
Mr Sparkler might have replied with ingenuousness； 'My life； I have
nothing to say。' But； as the repartee did not occur to him； he contented
himself with ing in from the balcony and standing at the side of his
wife's couch。
'Good gracious； Edmund！' said Mrs Sparkler more fretfully still； you are
absolutely putting mignote up your nose！ Pray don't！'
Mr Sparkler； in absence of mind……perhaps in a more literal absence of
mind than is usually understood by the phrase……had smelt so hard at a
sprig in his hand as to be on the verge of the offence in question。 He
smiled； said； 'I ask your pardon； my dear；' and threw it out of window。
'You make my head ache by remaining in that position； Edmund；' said Mrs
Sparkler； raising her eyes to him after another minute； 'you look so
aggravatingly large by this light。 Do sit down。'
'Certainly； my dear；' said Mr Sparkler； and took a chair on the same
spot。
'If I didn't know that the longest day was past；' said Fanny； yawning in
a dreary manner； 'I should have felt certain this was the longest day。 I
never did experience such a day。'
'Is that your fan； my love？' asked Mr Sparkler； picking up one and
presenting it。
'Edmund；' returned his wife； more wearily yet； 'don't ask weak
questions； I entreat you not。 Whose can it be but mine？'
'Yes； I thought it was yours；' said Mr Sparkler。
'Then you shouldn't ask；' retorted Fanny。 After a little while she
turned on her sofa and exclaimed； 'Dear me； dear me； there never was
such a long day as this！' After another little while； she got up slowly；
walked about； and came back again。
'My dear；' said Mr Sparkler； flashing with an original conception； 'I
think you must have got the fidgets。'
'Oh； Fidgets！' repeated Mrs Sparkler。 'Don't。'
'My adorable girl；' urged Mr Sparkler； 'try your aromatic vinegar。 I
have often seen my mother try it； and it seemingly refreshed her。
And she is； as I believe you are aware； a remarkably fine woman； with no
non……'
'Good Gracious！' exclaimed Fanny； starting up again。 'It's beyond all
patience！ This is the most wearisome day that ever did dawn upon the
world； I am certain。'
Mr Sparkler looked meekly after her as she lounged about the room； and
he appeared to be a little frightened。 When she had tossed a few trifles
about； and had looked down into the darkening street out of all the
three windows； she returned to her sofa； and threw herself among its
pillows。
'Now Edmund； e here！ e a little nearer； because I want to be able
to touch you with my fan； that I may impress you very much with what I
am going to say。 That will do。 Quite close enough。 Oh； you do look so
big！'
Mr Sparkler apologised for the circumstance； pleaded that he couldn't
help it； and said that 'our fellows；' without more particularly
indicating whose fellows； used to call him by the name of Quinbus
Flestrin； Junior； or the Young Man Mountain。
'You ought to have told me so before；' Fanny plained。
'My dear；' returned Mr Sparkler； rather gratified； 'I didn't know
It would interest you； or I would have made a point of telling you。'
'There！ For goodness sake； don't talk；' said Fanny； 'I want to talk；
myself。 Edmund； we must not be alone any more。 I must take such
precautions as will prevent my being ever again reduced to the state of
dreadful depression in which I am this evening。'
'My dear；' answered Mr Sparkler； 'being as you are well known to be； a
remarkably fine woman with no……'
'Oh； good GRACIOUS！' cried Fanny。
Mr Sparkler was so disposed by the energy of this exclamation；
acpanied with a flouncing up from the sofa and a flouncing down
again； that a minute or two elapsed before he felt himself equal to
saying in explanation：
'I mean； my dear； that everybody knows you are calculated to shine in
society。'
'Calculated to shine in society；' retorted Fanny with great
irritability； 'yes； indeed！ And then what happens？ I no sooner recover；
in a visiting point of view； the shock of poor dear papa's death； and my
poor uncle's……though I do not disguise from myself that the last was
a happy release； for； if you are not presentable you had much better
die……'
'You are not referring to me； my love； I hope？' Mr Sparkler humbly
interrupted。
'Edmund； Edmund； you would wear out a Saint。 Am I not expressly speaking
of my poor uncle？'
'You looked with so much expression at myself； my dear girl；' said Mr
Sparkler； 'that I felt a little unfortable。 Thank you； my love。'
'Now you have put me out；' observed Fanny with a resigned toss of her
fan； 'and I had better go to bed。'
'Don't do that； my love；' urged Mr Sparkler。 'Take time