between themselves, while my daughters sate silent, admiring their exalted breeding. But as every reader, however beggarly himself, is fond of high-lived dialogues, with anecdotes of Lords, Ladies, and Knights of the Garter, I must beg leave to give him the concluding part of the present conversation. ‘All that I know of the matter,’ cried Miss Skeggs, ‘is this, that it may be true, or it may not be true: but this I can assure your Ladyship, that the whole rout was in amaze; his Lordship turned all manner of colours, my Lady fell into a sound; but Sir Tomkyn, drawing his sword, swore he was her’s to the last drop of his blood.’ ‘Well,’ replied our Peeress, ‘this I can say, that the Dutchess never told me a syllable of the matter, and I believe her Grace would keep nothing a secret from me. This you may depend upon as fact, that the next morning my Lord Duke cried out three times to his valet de chambre, Jernigan, Jernigan, Jernigan, bring me my garters.’
But previously I should have mentioned the very impolite behaviour of Mr Burchell, who, during this discourse, sate with his face turned to the fire, and at the conclusion of every sentence would cry out FUDGE! an expression which displeased us all, and in some measure damped the rising spirit of the conversation.
‘Besides, my dear Skeggs,’ continued our Peeress, ‘there is nothing of this in the copy of verses that Dr Burdock made upon the occasion.’—‘FUDGE!’
‘I am surprised at that,’ cried Miss Skeggs; ‘for he seldom leaves any thing out, as he writes only for his own amusement. But can your Ladyship favour me with a sight of them?’—‘FUDGE!’