On that occasion, I remember, I recoiled in fright from the dreaded ordeal, seeking refuge in "instant flight." I could not do so now, however.

I had promised Min to speak to her mother as soon as possible; and, independently of that engagement, the interview would have to be gone through sooner or later, at all hazards.
"An' it were done quickly, it were well done;" so, at last, my hesitation passed away under the influence of this, really vital, consideration.

I nerved myself up to the knocking point.

I gave a loud rat, tat, tat! that thrilled through my very boots, causing a passing butcher's boy, awed by its important sound, to inquire, with the cynical empressement of his race, whether I thought myself the "Emperoar of Rooshia." I turned my back on him with contempt; but, his ribald remark made me feel all the more nervous.
"Mrs Clyde at home ?" I asked of the handmaiden, who answered my summons.
Yes, Mrs Clyde was at home.
Would I walk in?
I would; and did.
So far, all was plain sailing:--now, came the tug of war.
Mrs Clyde was standing up, facing the door, as I entered the drawing- room into which the handmaiden had ushered me.
"Won't you sit down, Mr Lorton ?" she said, politely.
She never forgot her good breeding; and, I verily believe, if it had ever been her lot to officiate in Calcraft's place, she would have asked the culprit, whom she was about to hasten on his way to "kingdom come," whether he found the fatal noose too tight, or comfortable and easy, around his doomed neck! She would do this, too, I'm sure, with the most charming solicitude possible! I noticed of her, that, whenever she was bent on using her sharpest weapons--of "society's" armoury and, methinks, the devil's forge-mark!-- she always put on an extra gloss of politeness over her normal smooth and varnished style of address.
I didn't like it, either.
Civility may be all very well in its way, but I cannot say that I admire that way of knocking a man down with a kid glove.

It is a treacherous mode of attack; and very much resembles the plan Mr Chucks, the boatswain in _Peter Simple_, used to adopt when correcting the ship's boys.
That gentleman would, if you recollect, courteously beckon an offender to approach him, doffing his hat the while as if speaking to the quarter-deck; and then, begging the trembling youngster's pardon for detaining him, would proceed to inform him in the "politest and most genteel manner in the world" that he was "the d---d son of a sea cook,"-- subsequently rattaning him furiously, amidst a plethora of expletives before which the worst Billingsgate faded into insignificance.
I may be singular in the fancy, but, do you know, I prefer civil words to be accompanied with civil deeds, and contrariwise:--the "poison of asps" does not go well with honied accents! "Pray take a seat, Mr Lorton," said Mrs Clyde.