Law bless me, once, as I was going away from the Haymarket, if I didn't see Mr.Hobson coming out of the Opera, in tights and an opera-hat, sir, like 'Froggy would wooing go,' of a Saturday-night, too, when his ma thought him safe in bed in the City! I warrant he hadn't his opera-hat on when he went to chapel with her ladyship the next morning--that very morning, as sure as my name's John Giles.
"When the old lady was gone, Mr.Hobson had no need of any more humbugging, but took his pleasure freely.

Fighting, tandems, four-in-hand, anything.

He and his brother--his elder brother by a quarter of an hour--were always very good friends; but after Mr.
Brian married, and there was only court-cards at his table, Mr.Hobson couldn't stand it.

They weren't of his suit, he said; and for some time he said he wasn't a marrying man--quite the contrary; but we all come to our fate, you know, and his time came as mine did.

You know we married sisters?
It was thought a fine match for Polly Smith, when she married the great Mr.Newcome; but I doubt whether my old woman at home hasn't had the best of it, after all; and if ever you come Bernard Street way on a Sunday, about six o'clock, and would like a slice of beef and a glass of port, I hope you'll come and see us." Do not let us be too angry with Colonel Newcome's two most respectable brothers, if for some years they neglected their Indian relative, or held him in slight esteem.