I had my hands, my house, and
my Bohemian balsam to support her!--and we had hopes from her uncle,
a mighty rich East India merchant, who, having left this country sixty
years ago as a cabin-boy, had arrived to be the head of a great house in
India, and was worth millions, we were told.
Three years after Jemimarann's birth (and two after the death of my
lamented father-in-law), Tuggeridge (head of the great house of Budgurow
and Co.) retired from the management of it; handed over his shares to
his son, Mr. John Tuggeridge, and came to live in England, at Portland
Place, and Tuggeridgeville, Surrey, and enjoy himself. Soon after, my
wife took her daughter in her hand and went, as in duty bound, to
visit her uncle: but whether it was that he was proud and surly, or she
somewhat sharp in her way, (the dear girl fears nobody, let me have you
to know,) a desperate quarrel took place between them; and from that
day to the day of his death, he never set eyes on her. All that he would
condescend to do, was to take a few dozen of lavender-water from us in
the course of the year, and to send his servants to be cut and shaved by
us. All the neighbors laughed at this poor ending of our expectations,
for Jemmy had bragged not a little; however, we did not care, for the
connection was always a good one, and we served Mr.
Pages:
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579