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res of equal importance, engrossed the attention of Mrs. Malderton and her daughters during the whole morning after church.
'Upon my word, my dear, it's a most annoying thing that that vulgar brother of yours should have invited himself to dine here to-day,' said Mr. Malderton to his wife. 'On account of Mr. Sparkins's coming down, I purposely abstained from asking any one but Flamwell. And then to think of your brother--a tradesman--it's insufferable! I declare I wouldn't have him mention his shop, before our new guest--no, not for a thousand pounds! I wouldn't care if he had the good sense to conceal the disgrace he is to the family; but he's so fond of his horrible business, that he WILL let people know what he is.'
Mr. Jacob Barton, the individual alluded to, was a large grocer; so vulgar, and so lost to all sense of feeling, that he actually never scrupled to avow that he wasn't above his business: 'he'd made his money by it, and he didn't care who know'd it.'
'Ah! Flamwell, my dear fellow, how d'ye do?' said Mr. Malderton, as a little spoffish man, with green spectacles, entered the room. 'You got my note?'
'Yes, I did; and here I am in consequence.'
'You don't happen to know this Mr. Sparkins by name? You know everybody?'
Mr. Flamwell was one of those gentlemen of remarkably extensive information whom one occasionally meets in society, who pretend to know everybody, but in reality know nobody. At Malderton's, where any stories about great people were received with a greedy ear, he was an especial favourite; and, knowing the kind of people he had to deal with, he carried his passion of claiming acquaintance with everybody, to the most immoderate length. He had rather a singular way of telling his greatest lies in a parenthesis, and with an air of self-denial, as if he feared being thought egotistical.
'Why, no, I don't know him by that name,' returned Flamwell, in a low tone, and with an air of immense importance. 'I have no doubt I know him, though. Is he ta