We'll drink a toast. Shall we drink a toast, Mr Noggs?'
'Ah!' said Newman, eyeing his little glass impatiently. 'Look sharp.
Bearer waits.'
'Why, then, I'll tell you what,' tittered Arthur, 'we'll drink--he, he,
he!--we'll drink a lady.'
'THE ladies?' said Newman.
'No, no, Mr Noggs,' replied Gride, arresting his hand, 'A lady. You
wonder to hear me say A lady. I know you do, I know you do. Here's
little Madeline. That's the toast. Mr Noggs. Little Madeline!'
'Madeline!' said Newman; inwardly adding, 'and God help her!'
The rapidity and unconcern with which Newman dismissed his portion of
the golden water, had a great effect upon the old man, who sat upright
in his chair, and gazed at him, open-mouthed, as if the sight had taken
away his breath. Quite unmoved, however, Newman left him to sip his own
at leisure, or to pour it back again into the bottle, if he chose,
and departed; after greatly outraging the dignity of Peg Sliderskew
by brushing past her, in the passage, without a word of apology or
recognition.
Mr Gride and his housekeeper, immediately on being left alone, resolved
themselves into a committee of ways and means, and discussed the
arrangements which should be made for the reception of the young bride.
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