Mrs. Crummles trod the pavement as if she were going to immediate execution with an animating consciousness of innocence and that heroic fortitude which- virtue alone inspires. Mr. Crummles, on the other hand, assumed the look and gait of a hardened despot; but they both attracted some notice from many of the passers-by, and when they heard a whisper of "Mr. and Mrs. Crummles," or saw a little boy run back to stare them in the face, the severe expression of their countenances relaxed, for they felt it was popularity.
Mr. Crummles lived in Saint Thomas's Street, at the house of one Bulph, a pilot, who sported a boat-green door, with window-frames of the same colour, and had the little finger of a drowned man on his parlour mantel-shelf, with other maritime and natural curiosities. He displayed also a brass knocker, a brass plate, and a brass bell-handle, all very bright and shining; and had a mast, with a vane on the top of it, in his back yard.
"You are welcome," said Mrs. Crummles, turning round to Nicholas when they reached the bow-windowed front room on the first floor. Nicholas bowed his acknowledgments, and was unfeignedly glad to see the cloth laid.
"We have but a shoulder of mutton with onion sauce," said Mrs. Crummles, in the same charnel-house voice; "but such as our dinner is, we beg you to partake of it."
"You are very good," replied Nicholas, "I shall do it ample justice."
"Vincent," said Mrs. Crummles, "what is the hour?"
"Five minutes past dinner-time," said Mr. Crummles.
Mrs. Crummles rang the bell. "Let the mutton and onion sauce appear."
The slave who attended upon Mr. Bulph's lodgers disappeared, and after a short interval re-appeared with the festive banquet. Nicholas and the infant phenomenon opposed each other at the pembroke-table, and Smike and the master Crummleses dined on the sofa bedstead.
"Are they very theatrical people here?" asked Nicholas.
"No," replied Mr. Crummles, shaking his head, "far from it—far from it."
"I pity them," observed Mrs. Crummles.
"So do I," said Nicholas; "if they have no relish for theatrical entertainments, properly conducted."
"Then they have none, Sir," rejoined Mr. Crummles. "To the infant's benefit, last year, on which occasion she repeated three of her most popular characters, and also appeared in the Fairy Porcupine, as originally performed by her, there was a house of no more than four pound twelve."
"Is it possible?" cried Nicholas.
"And two pound of that was trust, pa," said the phenomenon.
"And two pound of that was trust," repeated Mr. Crummles. "Mrs. Crummles herself has played to mere handfuls."
"But they are always a taking audience, Vincent," said the manager's wife.
