Part 2

“Law, my dear, they are our cousins, and must be asked,” Rosa said.

“Let us put down my sister and Tom Crowder, then.”

“Blanche Crowder is really so VERY fat, Fitzroy,” his wife said, “and our rooms are so VERY small.”

Fitz laughed. “You little rogue,” he said, “Lady Bungay weighs two of Blanche, even when she's not in the f--”

“Fiddlesticks!” Rose cried out. “Doctor Crowder really cannot be admitted: he makes such a noise eating his soup, that it is really quite disagreeable.” And she imitated the gurgling noise performed by the Doctor while inhausting his soup, in such a funny way that Fitz saw inviting him was out of the question.

“Besides, we mustn't have too many relations,” Rosa went on. “Mamma, of course, is coming. She doesn't like to be asked in the evening; and she'll bring her silver bread-basket and her candlesticks, which are very rich and handsome.”

“And you complain of Blanche for being too stout!” groaned out Timmins.

“Well, well, don't be in a pet,” said little Rosa. “The girls won't come to dinner; but will bring their music afterwards.” And she went on with the list.

“Sir Thomas and Lady Kicklebury, 2. No saying no: we MUST ask them, Charles. They are rich people, and any room in their house in Brobdingnag Gardens would swallow up OUR humble cot. But to people in OUR position in SOCIETY they will be glad enough to come. The city people are glad to mix with the old families.”

“Very good,” says Fitz, with a sad face of assent--and Mrs. Timmins went on reading her list.

“Mr. and Mrs. Topham Sawyer, Belgravine Place.”

“Mrs. Sawyer hasn't asked you all the season. She gives herself the airs of an empress; and when--”

“One's Member, you know, my dear, one must have,” Rosa replied, with much dignity as if the presence of the representative of her native place would be a protection to her dinner. And a note was written and transported by the page early next morning to the mansion of the Sawyers, in Belgravine Place.

The Topham Sawyers had just come down to breakfast; Mrs. T. in her large dust-colored morning-dress and Madonna front (she looks rather scraggy of a morning, but I promise you her ringlets and figure will stun you of an evening); and having read the note, the following dialogue passed:--

Mrs. Topham Sawyer.--“Well, upon my word, I don't know where things will end. Mr. Sawyer, the Timminses have asked us to dinner.”

Mr. Topham Sawyer.--“Ask us to dinner! What d----- impudence!”

Mrs. Topham Sawyer.--“The most dangerous and insolent revolutionary principles are abroad, Mr. Sawyer; and I shall write and hint as much to these persons.”

Mr. Topham Sawyer.--“No, d--- it, Joanna: they are my constituents and we must go. Write a civil note, and say we will come to their party.” (He resumes the perusal of 'The times,' and Mrs. Topham Sawyer writes)--

“MY DEAR ROSA,--We shall have GREAT PLEASURE in joining your little party. I do not reply in the third person, as WE ARE OLD FRIENDS, you know, and COUNTRY NEIGHBORS. I hope your mamma is well: present my KINDEST REMEMBRANCES to her, and I hope we shall see much MORE of each other in the summer, when we go down to the Sawpits (for going abroad is out of the question in these DREADFUL TIMES). With a hundred kisses to your dear little PET,

“Believe me your attached

“J. T. S.”

She said Pet, because she did not know whether Rosa's child was a girl or boy: and Mrs. Timmins was very much pleased with the kind and gracious nature of the reply to her invitation.

II.

The next persons whom little Mrs. Timmins was bent upon asking, were Mr. and Mrs. John Rowdy, of the firm of Stumpy, Rowdy and Co., of Brobdingnag Gardens, of the Prairie, Putney, and of Lombard Street, City.

Mrs. Timinins and Mrs. Rowdy had been brought up at the same school together, and there was always a little rivalry between them, from the day when they contended for the French prize at school to last week, when each had a stall at the Fancy Fair for the benefit of the Daughters of Decayed Muffin-men; and when Mrs. Timmins danced against Mrs. Rowdy in the Scythe Mazurka at the Polish Ball, headed by Mrs. Hugh Slasher. Rowdy took twenty-three pounds more than Timmins in the Muffin transaction (for she had possession of a kettle-holder worked by the hands of R-y-lty, which brought crowds to her stall); but in the Mazurka Rosa conquered: she has the prettiest little foot possible (which in a red boot and silver heel looked so lovely that even the Chinese ambassador remarked it), whereas Mrs. Rowdy's foot is no trifle, as Lord Cornbury acknowledged when it came down on his lordship's boot-tip as they danced together amongst the Scythes.

“These people are ruining themselves,” said Mrs. John Rowdy to her husband, on receiving the pink note. It was carried round by that rogue of a buttony page in the evening; and he walked to Brobdingnag Gardens, and in the Park afterwards, with a young lady who is kitchen-maid at 27, and who is not more than fourteen years older than little Buttons.

“These people are ruining themselves,” said Mrs. John to her husband. “Rosa says she has asked the Bungays.”

“Bungays indeed! Timmins was always a tuft-hunter,” said Rowdy, who had been at college with the barrister, and who, for his own part, has no more objection to a lord than you or I have; and adding, “Hang him, what business has HE to be giving parties?” allowed Mrs. Rowdy, nevertheless, to accept Rosa's invitation.