Mr. Branghton then appeared, and led the way himself. We went, as before, up two pairs of stairs; but the moment the father opened the door, the daughters both gave a loud scream. We all stopped; and then Miss Branghton called out, “Lord, Papa, what do you bring the company up here for? why, Polly and I a’n’t half dressed.”
“More shame for you,” answered he; “here’s your aunt, and cousin, and M. Du Bois, all waiting, and ne’er a room to take them to.”
“Who’d have thought of their coming so soon?” cried she: “I am sure for my part I thought Miss was used to nothing but quality hours.”
“Why, I shan’t be ready this half-hour yet,” said Miss Polly; “can’t they stay in the shop till we’re dressed?”
Mr. Branghton was very angry, and scolded them violently: however, we were obliged to descend, and stools were procured for us in the shop, where we found the brother, who was highly delighted, he said, that his sisters had been catched; and he thought proper to entertain me with a long account of their tediousness, and the many quarrels they all had together.
When, at length, these ladies were equipped to their satisfaction, they made their appearance; but before any conversation was suffered to pass between them and us, they had a long and most disagreeable dialogue with their father, to whose reprimands, though so justly incurred, they replied with the utmost pertness while their brother all the time laughed aloud.
The moment they perceived this, they were so much provoked, that, instead of making any apologies to Madame Duval, they next began to quarrel with him. “Tom, what do you laugh for? I wonder what business you have to be always a laughing when Papa scolds us?”
“Then what business have you to be such a while getting on your clothes? You’re never ready, you know well enough.”
“Lord, Sir, I wonder what’s that to you! I wish you’d mind your own affairs, and not trouble yourself about ours. How should a boy like you know anything?”
“A boy, indeed! not such a boy, neither: I’ll warrant you’ll be glad to be as young when you come to be old maids.”
This sort of dialogue we were amused with till dinner was ready, when we again mounted up two pairs of stairs.
In our way, Miss Polly told me that her sister had asked Mr. Smith for his room to dine in, but he had refused to lend it; “because,” she said, “one day it happened to be a little greased: however, we shall have it to drink tea in, and then, perhaps, you may see him; and I assure you he’s quite like one of the quality, and dresses as fine, and goes to balls and dances, and everything, quite in taste; and besides, Miss, he keeps a foot-boy of his own too.”
The dinner was ill-served, ill-cooked, and ill-managed. The maid who waited had so often to go downstairs for something that was forgotten, that the Branghtons were perpetually obliged to rise from table themselves, to get plates, knives, and forks, bread or beer. Had they been without pretensions, all this would have seemed of no consequence; but they aimed at appearing to advantage, and even fancied they succeeded. However, the most disagreeable part of our fare was that the whole family continually disputed whose turn it was to rise, and whose to be allowed to sit still.
When this meal was over, Madame Duval, ever eager to discourse upon her travels, entered into an argument with Mr. Branghton, and, in broken English, M. Du Bois, concerning the French nation: and Miss Polly, then addressing herself to me, said “Don’t you think, Miss, it’s very dull sitting upstairs here? we’d better go down to shop, and then we shall see the people go by.”
“Lord, Poll,” said the brother, “you’re always wanting to be staring and gaping; and I’m sure you needn’t be so fond of showing yourself, for you’re ugly enough to frighten a horse.”
“Ugly, indeed! I wonder which is best, you or me. But, I tell you what, Tom, you’ve no need to give yourself such airs; for, if you do, I’ll tell Miss of—you know what—”
“Who cares if you do? you may tell what you will; I don’t mind—”
“Indeed,” cried I, “I do not desire to hear any secrets.”
“O, but I’m resolved I’ll tell you, because Tom’s so very spiteful. You must know, Miss, t’other night—”
“Poll,” cried the brother, “if you tell of that, Miss shall know all about your meeting young Brown—you know when!—So I’ll be quits with you one way or other.”
Miss Polly coloured, and again proposed our going downstairs till Mr. Smith’s room was ready for our reception.
“Aye, so we will,” said Miss Branghton; “I’ll assure you, cousin, we have some very genteel people pass by our shop sometimes. Polly and I always go and sit there when we’ve cleaned ourselves.”
“Yes, Miss,” cried the brother, “they do nothing else all day long, when father don’t scold them. But the best fun is, when they’ve got all their dirty things on, and all their hair about their ears, sometimes I send young Brown upstairs to them: and then there’s such a fuss!—There, they hide themselves, and run away, and squeal and squall, like anything mad: and so then I puts the two cats into the room, and I gives them a good whipping, and so that sets them a squalling too; so there’s such a noise and such an uproar!—Lord, you can’t think, Miss, what fun it is!”
This occasioned a fresh quarrel with the sisters; at the end of which, it was at length decided that we should go to the shop.
In our way downstairs, Miss Branghton said aloud, “I wonder when Mr. Smith’s room will be ready.”
“So do I,” answered Polly; “I’m sure we should not do any harm to it now.”
This hint had not the desired effect; for we were suffered to proceed very quietly.
As we entered the shop, I
