Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour Part 15

'I wonder where he lives?' observed Emily, who was quite ready to take our friend as he was.

'I wonder where he _does_ live?' chimed in Mrs. Jawleyford, for the suddenness of the descent had given them no time for inquiry. 'Somebody said Manchester,' observed Miss Jawleyford drily.

'So much the better,' observed Mrs. Jawleyford, 'for then he is sure to have plenty of money.'

'Law, ma! but you don't s'pose pa would ever allow such a thing,' retorted Miss, recollecting her papa's frequent exhortations to them to look high.

'If he's a landowner,' observed Mrs. Jawleyford 'we'll soon find him out in _Burke_. Emily, my dear,' added she, 'just go into your pa's room, and bring me the _Commoners_--you'll find it on the large table between the _Peerage_ and the _Wellington Despatches_.'

Emily tripped away to do as she was bid. The fair messenger presently returned, bearing both volumes, richly bound and lettered, with the Jawleyford crests studded down the backs, and an immense coat of arms on the side.

A careful search among the S's produced nothing in the shape of Sponge.

'Not likely, I should think,' observed Miss Jawleyford, with a toss of her head, as her mamma announced the fact.

'Well, never mind,' replied Mrs. Jawleyford, seeing that only one of the girls could have him, and that one was quite ready; 'never mind, I dare say I shall be able to find out something from himself,' and so they dropped the subject.

In due time in swaggered our hero, himself, kicking his legs about as men in tights or tops generally do.

'May I give you tea or coffee?' asked Emily, in the sweetest tone possible, as she raised her finely turned gloveless arm towards where the glittering appendages stood on the large silver tray.

'Neither, thank you,' said Sponge, throwing himself into an easy-chair beside Mrs. Jawleyford. He then crossed his legs, and c.o.c.king up a toe for admiration, began to yawn.

'You feel tired after your journey?' observed Mrs. Jawleyford.

'No, I'm not,' said Sponge, yawning again--a good yawn this time.

Miss Jawleyford looked significantly at her sister--a long pause ensued.

'I knew a family of your name,' at length observed Mrs. Jawleyford, in the simple sort of way women begin pumping men. 'I knew a family of your name,'

repeated she, seeing Sponge was half asleep--'the Sponges of Toadey Hall.

Pray are they any relation of yours?'

'Oh--ah--yes,' blurted Sponge: 'I suppose they are. The fact is--the--haw--Sponges--haw--are a rather large family--haw. Meet them almost everywhere.'

'You don't live in the same county, perhaps?' observed Mrs. Jawleyford.

'No, we don't,' replied he, with a yawn.

'Is yours a good hunting country?' asked Jawleyford, thinking to sound him in another way.

'No; a devilish bad 'un,' replied Sponge, adding with a grunt, 'or I wouldn't be here.'

'Who hunts it?' asked Mr. Jawleyford.

'Why, as to that--haw,'--replied Sponge, stretching out his arms and legs to their fullest extent, and yawning most vigorously--'why, as to that, I can hardly say which you would call my country, for I have to do with so many; but I should say, of all the countries I am--haw--connected with--haw--Tom Scratch's is the worst.'

Mr. Jawleyford looked at Mrs. Jawleyford as a counsel who thinks he has made a grand hit looks at a jury before he sits down, and said no more.

Mrs. Jawleyford looked as innocent as most jurymen do after one of these forensic exploits.--Mr. Sponge beginning his nasal recreations, Mrs.

Jawleyford motioned the ladies off to bed--Mr. Sponge and his host presently followed.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE EVENING'S REFLECTIONS

'Well, I think he'll do,' said our friend to himself, as having reached his bedroom, in accordance with modern fashion, he applied a cedar match to the now somewhat better burnt-up fire, for the purpose of lighting a cigar--a cigar! in the state-bedroom of Jawleyford Court. Having divested himself of his smart blue coat and white waistcoat, and arrayed himself in a grey dressing-gown, he adjusted the loose cushions of a rec.u.mbent chair, and soused himself into its luxurious depths for a 'think over.'

'He has money,' mused Sponge, between the copious whiffs of the cigar, 'splendid style he lives in, to be sure' (puff), continued he, after another long draw, as he adjusted the ash at the end of the cigar. 'Two men in livery' (puff), 'one out, can't be done for nothing' (puff). 'What a profusion of plate, too!' (whiff)--'declare I never' (puff) 'saw such'

(whiff, puff) 'magnificence in the whole course of my' (whiff, puff) 'life.'

The cigar being then well under way, he sucked and puffed and whiffed in an apparently vacant stupor, his legs crossed, and his eyes fixed on a projecting coal between the lower bars, as if intent on watching the alternations of flame and gas; though in reality he was running all the circ.u.mstances through his mind, comparing them with his past experience, and speculating on the probable result of the present adventure.

He had seen a good deal of service in the matrimonial wars, and was ent.i.tled to as many bars as the most distinguished peninsular veteran. No woman with money, or the reputation of it, ever wanted an offer while he was in the way, for he would accommodate her at the second or third interview: and always pressed for an immediate fulfilment, lest the 'cursed lawyers' should interfere and interrupt their felicity. Somehow or other, the 'cursed lawyers' always had interfered; and as sure as they walked in, Mr. Sponge walked out. He couldn't bear the idea of their coa.r.s.e, inquisitive inquiries. He was too much of a gentleman!

Love, light as air, at sight of human ties Spreads his light wings and in a moment flies.

So Mr. Sponge fled, consoling himself with the reflection that there was no harm done, and hoping for 'better luck next time.'

He roved from flower to flower like a b.u.t.terfly, touching here, alighting there, but always pa.s.sing away with apparent indifference. He knew if he couldn't square matters at short notice, he would have no better chance with an extension of time; so, if he saw things taking the direction of inquiry he would just laugh the offer off, pretend he was only feeling his way--saw he was not acceptable--sorry for it--and away he would go to somebody else. He looked upon a woman much in the light of a horse; if she didn't suit one man, she would another, and there was no harm in trying. So he puffed and smoked, and smoked and puffed--gliding gradually into wealth and prosperity.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MR. SPONGE AS HE APPEARED IN THE BEST BEDROOM]

A second cigar a.s.sisted his comprehension considerably--just as a second bottle of wine not only helps men through their difficulties, but shows them the way to unbounded wealth. Many of the bright railway schemes of former days, we make no doubt, were concocted under the inspiring influence of the bottle. Sponge now saw everything as he wished. All the errors of his former days were apparent to him. He saw how indiscreet it was confiding in Miss Trickery's cousin, the major; why the rich widow at Chesterfield had _cha.s.seed_ him; and how he was done out of the beautiful Miss Rainbow, with her beautiful estate, with its lake, its heronry, and its perpetual advowson. Other mishaps he also considered.

Having disposed of the past, he then turned his attention to the future.

Here were two beautiful girls apparently full of money, between whom there wasn't the toss-up of a halfpenny for choice. Most exemplary parents, too, who didn't seem to care a farthing about money.

He then began speculating on what the girls would have. 'Great house--great establishment--great estate, doubtless. Why, confound it,' continued he, casting his heavy eye lazily around, 'here's a room as big as a field in a cramped country! Can't have less than fifty thousand a-piece, I should say, at the least. Jawleyford, to be sure, is young,' thought he; 'may live a long time' (puff). 'If Mrs. J. were to die (Curse--the cigar's burnt my lips'), added he, throwing the remnant into the fire, and rolling out of the chair to prepare for turning into bed.

If any one had told Sponge that there was a rich papa and mamma on the look-out merely for amiable young men to bestow their fair daughters upon, he would have laughed them to scorn, and said, 'Why, you fool, they are only laughing at you'; or 'Don't you see they are playing you off against somebody else?' But our hero, like other men, was blind where he himself was concerned, and concluded that he was the exception to the general rule.

Mr. and Mrs. Jawleyford had their consultation too.

'Well,' said Mr. Jawleyford, seating himself on the high wire fender immediately below a marble bust of himself on the mantelpiece; 'I think he'll do.'

'Oh, no doubt,' replied Mrs. Jawleyford, who never saw any difficulty in the way of a match; 'I should say he is a very nice young man,' continued she.

'Rather brusque in his manner, perhaps,' observed Jawleyford, who was quite the 'lady' himself. 'I wonder what he was?' added he, fingering away at his whiskers.

'He's rich, I've no doubt,' replied Mrs. Jawleyford.

'What makes you think so?' asked her loving spouse.

'I don't know,' replied Mrs. Jawleyford; 'somehow I feel certain he is--but I can't tell why--all fox-hunters are.'