Mr. Vanderclump looked upon the bright
and blazing fire; his eye rested, with a calm and musing satisfaction,
on the light volumes of steam rising from the spout of the tea-kettle,
as it stood, rather murmuring drowsily, than hissing, upon the hob. There
was, he might have felt, a sympathy between them. They were both placidly
puffing out the warm and wreathing smoke.
He laid down his pipe, and took half a well-buttered muffin into his
capacious mouth at a bite; he washed the mouthful down, with a large
dish of tea, and he felt in better spirits. That morning he entered the
counting-house rubbing his hands.
Within an hour a crowd of huge, dusky clouds shut out the merry sunshine,
and the Hamburgh mail brought no tidings whatever of Mr. Peter. Mr.
Anthony worked himself up into a thorough ill-humour again, and swore
at his clerks, because they asked him questions. When he entered his
apartment that evening he felt more desolate than ever. Betty placed
a barrel of oysters on the table--he heeded her not;--a large German
sausage--his eyes were fixed on the ground;--a piece of Hamburgh beef
--Mr. Vanderclump looked up for an instant, and, Europa-like, his
thoughts crossed the sea, upon that beef, to Hamburgh.
Pages:
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50