A Wintry Day and Night

           Stillimpassive,asbehovesitsbreeding,theDedlocktownhousecarriesitselfasusualtowardsthestreetofdismalgrandeur.Therearepowderedheadsfromtimetotimeinthelittlewindowsofthehall,lookingoutattheuntaxedpowderfallingalldayfromthesky;andinthesameconservatorythereispeachblossomturningitselfexoticallytothegreathallfirefromthenippingweatheroutofdoors.ItisgivenoutthatmyLadyhasgonedownintoLincolnshire,butisexpectedtoreturnpresently.Rumour,busyovermuch,however,willnotgodownintoLincolnshire.Itpersistsinflittingandchatteringabouttown.Itknowsthatthatpoorunfortunateman,SirLeicester,hasbeensadlyused.Ithears,mydearchild,allsortsofshockingthings.Itmakestheworldoffivemilesroundquitemerry.NottoknowthatthereissomethingwrongattheDedlocks’istoauguryourselfunknown.Oneofthepeachy-cheekedcharmerswiththeskeletonthroatsisalreadyapprisedofalltheprincipalcircumstancesthatwillcomeoutbeforetheLordsonSirLeicester’sapplicationforabillofdivorce.AtBlazeandSparkle’sthejewellersandatSheenandGloss’sthemercers,itisandwillbeforseveralhoursthetopicoftheage,thefeatureofthecentury.Thepatronessesofthoseestablishments,albeitsoloftilyinscrutable,beingasnicelyweighedandmeasuredthereasanyotherarticleofthestock-in-trade,areperfectlyunderstoodinthisnewfashionbytherawesthandbehindthecounter."Ourpeople,Mr.Jones,"saidBlazeandSparkletothehandinquestiononengaginghim,"ourpeople,sir,aresheep—meresheep.