Bullivant, the aspiring fair-haired sculptor, who wrote poetry, and
studied dignity in his attitudes so unremittingly, that he could not
even stop to look in at a shop-window, without standing before it as if
he was his own statue.
In a minute or two more, Mrs. Blyth heard a prodigious grating of
wheels, and trampling of horses, and banging of carriage-steps
violently let down. Madonna immediately took a seat on the nearest
chair, rolled the skirt of her dress up into her lap, tucked both her
hands inside it, then drew one out, and imitated the action of
snuff-taking--looking up merrily at Mrs. Blyth, as much as to say, "You
can't mistake that, I think?"--Impossible! old Lady Brambledown, with
her muff and snuff-box, to the very life.
Close on the Dowager Countess followed a visitor of low degree.
Madonna--looking as if she was a little afraid of the boldness of her
own imitation--began chewing an imaginary quid of tobacco; then
pretended to pull it suddenly out of his month, and throw it away
behind her. It was all over in a moment; but it represented to
perfection Mangles, the gardener; who, though an inveterate chewer of
tobacco, always threw away his quid whenever he confronted his betters,
as a duty that he owed to his own respectability.
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