's time and
attention diverted from dear Mrs. Pocket.«
    I could not help thinking that it might be harder if the butcher's time and
attention were diverted from dear Mrs. Pocket; but I said nothing, and indeed
had enough to do in keeping a bashful watch upon my company-manners.
    It came to my knowledge, through what passed between Mrs. Pocket and
Drummle, while I was attentive to my knife and fork, spoon, glasses, and other
instruments of self-destruction, that Drummle, whose christian name was Bentley,
was actually the next heir but one to a baronetcy. It further appeared that the
book I had seen Mrs. Pocket reading in the garden, was all about titles, and
that she knew the exact date at which her grandpapa would have come into the
book, if he ever had come at all. Drummle didn't say much, but in his limited
way (he struck me as a sulky kind of fellow) he spoke as one of the elect, and
recognised Mrs. Pocket as a woman and a sister. No one but themselves, and Mrs.
Coiler the toady neighbour, showed any interest in this part of the
conversation, and it appeared to me that it was painful to Herbert; but it
promised to last a long time, when the page came in with the announcement of a
domestic affliction. It was, in effect, that the cook had mislaid the beef. To
my unutterable amazement, I now, for the first time, saw Mr. Pocket relieve his
mind by going through a performance that struck me as very extraordinary, but
which made no impression on anybody else, and with which I soon became as
familiar as the rest. He laid down the carving-knife and fork - being engaged in
carving at the moment - put his two hands into his disturbed hair, and appeared
to make an extraordinary effort to lift himself up by it. When he had done this,
and had not lifted himself up at all, he quietly went on with what he was about.
    Mrs. Coiler then changed the subject and began to flatter me. I liked it for
a few moments, but she flattered me so very grossly that the pleasure was soon
over. She had a serpentine way of coming close at me when she pretended to be
vitally interested in the friends and localities I had left, which was
altogether snaky and fork-tongued; and when she made an occasional bounce upon
Startop (who said very little to her), or upon Drummle (who said less), I rather
envied
