And when the Expedition first discovered her,
she would listen to no terms at all, but said, an unspeakable
number of times, that ever she should have lived to see the day!
and couldn't be got to say anything else, except, 'Now carry me to
the grave:' which seemed absurd, on account of her not being dead,
or anything at all like it. After a time, she lapsed into a state
of dreadful calmness, and observed, that when that unfortunate
train of circumstances had occurred in the Indigo Trade, she had
foreseen that she would be exposed, during her whole life, to every
species of insult and contumely; and that she was glad to find it
was the case; and begged they wouldn't trouble themselves about
her,--for what was she? oh, dear! a nobody!--but would forget that
such a being lived, and would take their course in life without
her. From this bitterly sarcastic mood, she passed into an angry
one, in which she gave vent to the remarkable expression that the
worm would turn if trodden on; and, after that, she yielded to a
soft regret, and said, if they had only given her their confidence,
what might she not have had it in her power to suggest! Taking
advantage of this crisis in her feelings, the Expedition embraced
her; and she very soon had her gloves on, and was on her way to
John Peerybingle's in a state of unimpeachable gentility; with a
paper parcel at her side containing a cap of state, almost as tall,
and quite as stiff, as a mitre.
Then, there were Dot's father and mother to come, in another little
chaise; and they were behind their time; and fears were
entertained; and there was much looking out for them down the road;
and Mrs. Fielding always would look in the wrong and morally
impossible direction; and being apprised thereof, hoped she might
take the liberty of looking where she pleased. At last they came:
a chubby little couple, jogging along in a snug and comfortable
little way that quite belonged to the Dot family; and Dot and her
mother, side by side, were wonderful to see. They were so like
each other.
Then, Dot's mother had to renew her acquaintance with May's mother;
and May's mother always stood on her gentility; and Dot's mother
never stood on anything but her active little feet. And old Dot--
so to call Dot's father, I forgot it wasn't his right name, but
never mind--took liberties, and shook hands at first sight, and
seemed to think a cap but so much starch and muslin, and didn't
defer himself at all to the Indigo Trade, but said there was no
help for it now; and, in Mrs. Fielding's summing up, was a good-
natured kind of man--but coarse, my dear.
I wouldn't have missed Dot, doing the honours in her wedding-gown,
my benison on her bright face! for any money. No! nor the good
Carrier, so jovial and so ruddy, at the bottom of the table. Nor
the brown, fresh sailor-fellow, and his handsome wife. Nor any one
among them. To have missed the dinner would have been to miss as
jolly and as stout a meal as man need eat; and to have missed the
overflowing cups in which they drank The Wedding-Day, would have
been the greatest miss of all.
After dinner, Caleb sang the song about the Sparkling Bowl. As I'm
a living man, hoping to keep so, for a year or two, he sang it
through.
And, by-the-by, a most unlooked-for incident occurred, just as he
finished the last verse.
There was a tap at the door; and a man came staggering in, without
saying with your leave, or by your leave, with something heavy on
his head. Setting this down in the middle of the table,
symmetrically in the centre of the nuts and apples, he said:
'Mr.
