That Gustavus James was destined for greatness she had not the least doubt.

She began to think whether it might not be advisable to call him Gustavus James Sponge.
Jog, too, was comforted at hearing there were three haddocks, for though hospitably inclined, he did not at all like the idea of being on short commons himself.

He had sufficient confidence in Mrs.Jogglebury's management--especially as the guest was of her own seeking--to know that she would make up a tolerable dinner.
[Illustration] Nor was he out of his reckoning, for at half-past five Bartholomew announced dinner, when in sailed Mrs.Crowdey fresh from the composition of it and from the becoming revision of her own dress.

Instead of the loose, flowing, gipsified, stunner tartan of the morning, she was attired in a close-fitting French grey silk, showing as well the fulness and whiteness of her exquisite bust, as the beautiful formation of her arms.

Her raven hair was ably parted and flattened on either side of her well-shaped head.
Sponge felt proud of the honour of having such a fine creature on his arm, and kicked about in his tights more than usual.
The dinner, though it might show symptoms of hurry, was yet plentiful and good of its kind; and if Bartholomew had not been always getting in Murry Ann's way, would have been well set on and served.