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possible Mr Jones should be now in the house?" "_Quare non?_" answeredPartridge, "it is possible, and it is certain."Abigail now made haste to finish the remainder of her meal, and thenrepaired back to her mistress, when the conversation passed which maybe read in the next chapter.Chapter v.Showing who the amiable lady, and her unamiable maid, were.As in the month of June, the damask rose, which chance hath plantedamong the lilies, with their candid hue mixes his vermilion; or assome playsome heifer in the pleasant month of May diffuses herodoriferous breath over the flowery meadows; or as, in the bloomingmonth of April, the gentle, constant dove, perched on some fair bough,sits meditating on her mate; so, looking a hundred charms andbreathing as many sweets, her thoughts being fixed on her Tommy, witha heart as good and innocent as her face was beautiful, Sophia (for itwas she herself) lay reclining her lovely head on her hand, when hermaid entered the room, and, running directly to the bed, cried,"Madam--madam--who doth your ladyship think is in the house?" Sophia,starting up, cried, "I hope my father hath not overtaken us." "No,madam, it is one worth a hundred fathers; Mr Jones himself is here atthis very instant." "Mr Jones!" says Sophia, "it is impossible! Icannot be so fortunate." Her maid averred the fact, and was presentlydetached by her mistress to order him to be called; for she said shewas resolved to see him immediately.Mrs Honour had no sooner left the kitchen in the manner we have beforeseen than the landlady fell severely upon her. The poor woman hadindeed been loading her heart with foul language for some time, andnow it scoured out of her mouth, as filth doth from a mud-cart, whenthe board which confines it is removed. Partridge likewise shovelledin his share of calumny, and (what may surprize the reader) not onlybespattered the maid, but attempted to sully the lily-white characterof Sophia herself. "Never a barrel the better herring," cries he,"_Noscitur a socio_, is a true saying. It must be confessed, indeed,that the lady in the fine garments is the civiller of the two; but Iwarrant neither of them are a bit better than they should be. A coupleof Bath trulls, I'll answer for them; your quality don't ride about atthis time o' night without servants." "Sbodlikins, and that's true,"cries the landlady, "you have certainly hit upon the very matter; forquality don't come into a house without bespeaking a supper, whetherthey eat or no."While they were thus discoursing, Mrs Honour returned and dischargedher commission, by bidding the landlady immediately wake Mr Jones, andtell him a lady wanted to speak with him. The landlady referred her toPartridge, saying, "he was the squire's friend: but, for her part, shenever called men-folks, especially gentlemen," and then walkedsullenly out of the kitchen. Honour applied herself to Partridge; buthe refused, "for my friend," cries he, "went to bed very late, and hewould be very angry to be disturbed so soon." Mrs Honour insistedstill to have him called, saying, "she was sure, instead of beingangry, that he would be to the highest degree delighted when he knewthe occasion." "Another time, perhaps, he might," cries Partridge;