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ON HIS WAY THROUGH THE WORLD 267
or two old acquaintances are kinder to him than before. A few say
his ruin, and his obligation to work, will do him good. Only a very
very few avoid him, and look unconscious as he passes them by.
Amongst these cold countenances, you, of course, will recognise the
faces of the whole Twysden family. Three statues, with marble
eyes, could not look more stony-calm than Aunt Twysden and her
two daughters, as they pass in the stately barouche. The gentlemen
turn red when they see Philip. It is rather late times for Uncle
Twysden to begin blushing, to be sure. "Hang the fellow ! he
will, of course, be coming for money. Dawkins, I am not at
home, mind, when young Mr. Firmin calls." So says Lord Ringwood,
regarding Philip fallen among thieves. Ah, thanks to
Heaven, travellers find Samaritans as well as Levites on life's hard
way ! Philip told us with much humour of a rencontre which he
had had with his cousin, Ringwood Twysden, in a public place.
Twysden was enjoying himself with some young clerks of his office ;
but as Philip advanced upon him, assuming his fiercest scowl and
most hectoring manner, the other lost heart, and fled. And no
wonder. "Do you suppose," says Twysden, "I will willingly sit
in the same room with that cad, after the manner in which he has
treated my family 1 No, sir !" And so the tall door in Beaunash
Street is to open for Philip Firmin no more.
The tall door in Beaunash Street flies open readily enough for
another gentleman. A splendid cab-horse reins up before it every
day. A pair of varnished boots leap out of the cab, and spring up
the broad stairs, where somebody is waiting with a smile of genteel
welcome—the same smile—on the same sofa—the same mamma
at her table writing her letters. And beautiful bouquets from
Covent Garden decorate the room. And after half-an-hour mamma
goes out to speak to the housekeeper, vous comprenez. And there
is nothing particularly new under the sun. It will shine to-morrow
upon pretty much the same flowers, sports, pastimes, &c, which it
illuminated yesterday. And when your love-making days are over,
miss, and you are married, and advantageously established, shall
not your little sisters, now in the nursery, trot down and play
their little games ? Would you, on your conscience, now—you
who are rather inclined to consider Miss Agnes Twysden's conduct
as heartless—would you, I say, have her cry her pretty eyes out
about a young man who does not care much for her, for whom she
never did care much herself, and who is now, moreover, a beggar,
with a ruined and disgraced father and a doubtful legitimacy?
Absurd! That dear girl is like a beautiful fragrant bower-room
at the Star and Garter at Richmond, with honeysuckles mayhap
trailing round the windows, from which you behold one of the most