If Mr.Guppy had not been, fortunately for me, engaged in the daytime, I really should have had no rest from him.
While we were making this round of gaieties, in which Mr.Guppy so extraordinarily participated, the business which had helped to bring us to town was not neglected.

Mr.Kenge's cousin was a Mr.Bayham Badger, who had a good practice at Chelsea and attended a large public institution besides.

He was quite willing to receive Richard into his house and to superintend his studies, and as it seemed that those could be pursued advantageously under Mr.Badger's roof, and Mr.Badger liked Richard, and as Richard said he liked Mr.Badger "well enough," an agreement was made, the Lord Chancellor's consent was obtained, and it was all settled.
On the day when matters were concluded between Richard and Mr.
Badger, we were all under engagement to dine at Mr.Badger's house.
We were to be "merely a family party," Mrs.Badger's note said; and we found no lady there but Mrs.Badger herself.

She was surrounded in the drawing-room by various objects, indicative of her painting a little, playing the piano a little, playing the guitar a little, playing the harp a little, singing a little, working a little, reading a little, writing poetry a little, and botanizing a little.
She was a lady of about fifty, I should think, youthfully dressed, and of a very fine complexion.

If I add to the little list of her accomplishments that she rouged a little, I do not mean that there was any harm in it.
Mr.Bayham Badger himself was a pink, fresh-faced, crisp-looking gentleman with a weak voice, white teeth, light hair, and surprised eyes, some years younger, I should say, than Mrs.Bayham Badger.