On the great, momentous¹, stupendous day of the dinner, my beloved female reader may imagine that Fitzroy Timmins was sent about his business at an early hour in the morning, while the women began to make preparations to receive their guests. “There will be no need of your going to Fubsby's,” Mrs. Gashleigh said to him, with a look that drove him out of doors. “Everything that we require has been ordered THERE! You will please to be back here at six o'clock, and not sooner: and I presume you will acquiesce² in my arrangements about the WINE?”  
“O yes, mamma,” said the prostrate³ son-in-law.
 
“In so large a party—a party beyond some folks MEANS—expensive WINES are ABSURD. The light sherry at 26s., the champagne⁴ at 42s.; and you are not to go beyond 36s. for the claret and port after dinner. Mind, coffee will be served; and you come up stairs after two rounds of the claret.”
 
“Of course, of course,” acquiesced⁵ the wretch⁶; and hurried out of the house to his chambers⁷, and to discharge the commissions with which the womankind had intrusted him.
 
As for Mrs. Gashleigh, you might have heard her bawling⁸ over the house the whole day long. That admirable woman was everywhere: in the kitchen until the arrival of Truncheon, before whom she would not retreat without a battle; on the stairs; in Fitzroy's dressing⁹-room; and in Fitzroy minor's nursery, to whom she gave a dose of her own composition, while the nurse was sent out on a pretext¹⁰ to make purchases of garnish¹¹ for the dishes to be served for the little dinner. Garnish for the dishes! As if the folks at Fubsby's could not garnish dishes better than Gashleigh, with her stupid old-world devices of laurel-leaves, parsley, and cut turnips¹²! Why, there was not a dish served that day that was not covered over with skewers¹³, on which truffles, crayfish, mushrooms, and forced-meat were impaled¹⁴. When old Gashleigh went down with her barbarian¹⁵ bunches of holly¹⁶ and greens to stick about the meats, even the cook saw their incongruity¹⁷, and, at Truncheon's orders, flung the whole shrubbery into the dust-house, where, while poking¹⁸ about the premises¹⁹, you may be sure Mrs. G. saw it.
 
Every candle which was to be burned that night (including the tallow candle, which she said was a good enough bed-light for Fitzroy) she stuck into the candlesticks with her own hands, giving her own high-shouldered plated candlesticks of the year 1798 the place of honor. She upset all poor Rosa's floral arrangements, turning the nosegays from one vase into the other without any pity, and was never tired of beating, and pushing, and patting, and WHAPPING the curtain and sofa draperies into shape in the little drawing-room.
 
In Fitz's own apartments she revelled²⁰ with peculiar²¹ pleasure. It has been described how she had sacked his study and pushed away his papers, some of which, including three cigars, and the commencement of an article for the Law Magazine, “Lives of the Sheriffs' Officers,” he has never been able to find to this day. Mamma now went into the little room in the back regions, which is Fitz's dressing-room, (and was destined²² to be a cloak-room,) and here she rummaged²³ to her heart's delight.
 
In an incredibly short space of time she examined all his outlying pockets, drawers, and letters; she inspected his socks and handkerchiefs in the top drawers; and on the dressing-table, his razors, shaving-strop, and hair-oil. She carried off his silver-topped scent-bottle out of his dressing-case, and a half-dozen of his favorite pills (which Fitz possesses in common with every well-regulated man), and probably administered them to her own family. His boots, glossy²⁴ pumps, and slippers²⁵ she pushed into the shower-bath, where the poor fellow stepped into them the next morning, in the midst of a pool in which they were lying. The baby was found sucking his boot-hooks the next day in the nursery; and as for the bottle of varnish²⁶ for his shoes, (which he generally paints upon the trees himself, having a pretty taste in that way,) it could never be found to the present hour but it was remarked that the young Master Gashleighs, when they came home for the holidays, always wore lacquered highlows; and the reader may draw his conclusions from THAT fact.
 
In the course of the day all the servants gave Mrs. Timmins warning.
 
The cook said she coodn't abear it no longer, 'aving Mrs. G. always about her kitching, with her fingers in all the saucepans. Mrs. G. had got her the place, but she preferred one as Mrs. G. didn't get for her.
 
The nurse said she was come to nuss Master Fitzroy, and knew her duty; his grandmamma wasn't his nuss, and was always aggrawating her,—missus must shoot herself elsewhere.
 
The housemaid gave utterance²⁷ to the same sentiments in language more violent.
 
Little Buttons bounced up to his mistress, said he was butler of the family, Mrs. G. was always poking about his pantry, and dam if he'd stand it.
 
At every moment Rosa grew more and more bewildered. The baby howled a great deal during the day. His large china christening-bowl was cracked by Mrs. Gashleigh altering the ............