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imbue my poor boy with that part of his art。 Heaven forbid that I
should disparage my dear child； but he has—no Deportment。”
“He appears to be an excellent master；” I observed。
“Understand me； my dear madam； he is an excellent master。 All
that can be acquired； he has acquired。 All that can be imparted； he
can impart。 But there are things”—he took another pinch of snuff
and made the bow again； as if to add； “this kind of thing； for
instance。”
I glanced towards the centre of the room； where Miss Jellyby’s
lover； now engaged with single pupils； was undergoing greater
drudgery than ever。
“My amiable child；” murmured Mr Turveydrop； adjusting his
cravat。
“Your son is indefatigable；” said I。
“It is my reward；” said Mr Turveydrop； “to hear you say so。 In
some respects； he treads in the footsteps of his sainted mother。
She was a devoted creature。 But Wooman； lovely Wooman；” said
Mr Turveydrop； with very disagreeable gallantry； “what a sex you
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are！”
I rose and joined Miss Jellyby； who was； by this time； putting on
her bonnet。 The time allotted to a lesson having fully elapsed；
there was a general putting on of bonnets。 When Miss Jellyby and
the unfortunate Prince found an opportunity to become betrothed
I don’t know； but they certainly found none； on this occasion； to
exchange a dozen words。
“My dear；” said Mr Turveydrop benignly to his son； “do you
know the hour？”
“No； father。” The son had no watch。 The father had a
handsome gold one； which he pulled out； with an air that was an
example to mankind。
“My son；” said he “it’s two o’clock。 Recollect your school at
Kensington at three。”
“That’s time enough for me； father；” said Prince。 “I can take a
morsel of dinner； standing； and be off。”
“My dear boy；” returned his father； “you must be very quick。
You will find the cold mutton on the table。”
“Thank you； father。 Are you off now； father？”
“Yes； my dear。 I suppose；” said Mr Turveydrop； shutting his
eyes and lifting up his shoulders； with modest consciousness； “that
I must show myself； as usual； about town。”
“You had better dine out comfortably； somewhere；” said his
son。
“My dear child； I intend to。 I shall take my little meal； I think； at
the French house； in the Opera Colonnade。”
“That’s right。 Good…bye； father！” said Prince； shaking hands。
“Good…bye； my son。 Bless you！”
Mr Turveydrop said this in quite a pious manner； and it seemed
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to do his son good； who； in parting from him； was so pleased with
him； so dutiful to him； and so proud of him； that I almost felt as if it
were an unkindness to the younger man not to be able to believe
implicitly in the elder。 The few moments that were occupied by
Prince in taking leave of us （and particularly of one of us； as I saw；
being in the secret）； enhanced by favourable impression of his
almost childish character。 I felt a liking for him； and a compassion
for him； as he put his little kit in his pocket—and with it his desire
to stay a little while with Caddy—and went away good…
humouredly to his cold mutton and his school at Kensington； that
made me scarcely less irate with his father than the censorious old
lady。
The father opened the room door for us； and bowed us out in a
manner； I must acknowledge； worthy of his shining original。 In the
same style he presently passed us on the other side of the street；
on his way to the aristocratic part of the town； where he was going
to show himself among the few other gentlemen left。 For some
moments； I was so lost in reconsidering what I had heard and seen
in Newman Street； that I was quite unable to talk to Caddy； or
even to fix my attention on what she said to me： especially when I
began to inquire in my mind whether there were； or ever had
been； any other gentlemen； not in the dancing profession； who
lived and founded a reputation entirely on their Deportment。 This
became so bewildering； and suggested the possibility of so many
Mr Turveydrops； that I said； “Esther； you must make up your
mind to abandon this subject altogether； and attend to Caddy。” I
accordingly did so； and we chatted all the rest of the way to
Lincoln’s Inn。
Caddy told me that her lover’s education had been so neglected；
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that it was not always easy to read his notes。 She said； if he were
not so anxious about his spelling； and took less pains to make it
clear； he would do better； but he put so many unnecessary letters
into short words； that they sometimes quite lost their English
appearance。 “He does it with the best intention；” observed Caddy；
“but it hasn’t the effect he means； poor fellow！” Caddy then went
on to reason； how could he be expected to be a scholar； when he
had passed his whole life in the dancing…school； and had done
nothing but teach and fag； fag and teach； morning； noon； and
night！ And what did it matter？ She could write letters enough for
both； as she knew to her cost； and it was far better for him to be
amiable than learned。 “Besides； it’s not as if I was an
accomplished girl who had any right to give herself airs；” said
Caddy。 “I know little enough； I am sure； thanks to Ma！”
“There’s another thing I want to tell you； now we are alone；”
continued Caddy； “which I should not have liked to mention
unless you had seen Prince； Miss Summerson。 You know what a
house ours is。 It’s of no use my trying to learn anything that would
be useful for Prince’s wife to know； in our house。 We live in such a
state of muddle that it’s impossible； and I have only been more
disheartened whenever I have tried。 So I get a little practice
with—who do you think？ Poor Miss Flite！ Early in the morning； I
help her to tidy her room； and clean her birds； and I make her cup
of coffee for her （of course she taught me）； and I have learnt to
make it so well that Prince says it’s the very best coffee he ever
tasted； and would quite delight old Mr Turveydrop； who is very
particular indeed about his coffee。 I can make little puddings too；
and I know how to buy neck of mutton； and tea； and sugar； and
butter； and a good many housekeeping things。 I am not clever at
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my needle； yet；” said Caddy； glancing at the repairs on Peepy’s