With all his brightness and cleverness and general good qualities, Mr. Franklin’s chance of topping Mr. Godfrey in our young lady’s estimation was, in my opinion, a very poor chance indeed.

In the first place, Mr. Godfrey was, in point of size, the finest man by far of the two.  He stood over six feet high; he had a beautiful red and white colour; a smooth round face, shaved as bare as your hand; and a head of lovely long flaxen hair, falling negligently over the poll of his neck.  But why do I try to give you this personal description of him?  If you ever subscribed to a Ladies’ Charity in London, you know Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite as well as I do.  He was a barrister by profession; a ladies’ man by temperament; and a good Samaritan by choice.  Female benevolence and female destitution could do nothing without him.  Maternal societies for confining poor women; Magdalen societies for rescuing poor women; strong-minded societies for putting poor women into poor men’s places, and leaving the men to shift for themselves;—­he was vice-president, manager, referee to them all.  Wherever there was a table with a committee of ladies sitting round it in council there was Mr. Godfrey at the bottom of the board, keeping the temper of the committee, and leading the dear creatures along the thorny ways of business, hat in hand.  I do suppose this was the most accomplished philanthropist (on a small independence) that England ever produced.  As a speaker at charitable meetings the like of him for drawing your tears and your money was not easy to find.  He was quite a public character.  The last time I was in London, my mistress gave me two treats.  She sent me to the theatre to see a dancing woman who was all the rage; and she sent me to Exeter Hall to hear Mr. Godfrey.  The lady did it, with a band of music.  The gentleman did it, with a handkerchief and a glass of water.  Crowds at the performance with the legs.  Ditto at the performance with the tongue.  And with all this, the sweetest tempered person (I allude to Mr. Godfrey)—­the simplest and pleasantest and easiest to please—­you ever met with.  He loved everybody.  And everybody loved him.  What chance had Mr. Franklin—­what chance had anybody of average reputation and capacities—­against such a man as this?

On the fourteenth, came Mr. Godfrey’s answer.

He accepted my mistress’s invitation, from the Wednesday of the birthday to the evening of Friday—­when his duties to the Ladies’ Charities would oblige him to return to town.  He also enclosed a copy of verses on what he elegantly called his cousin’s “natal day.”  Miss Rachel, I was informed, joined Mr. Franklin in making fun of the verses at dinner; and Penelope, who was all on Mr. Franklin’s side, asked me, in great triumph, what I thought of that.  “Miss Rachel has led you off on a false scent, my dear,” I replied; “but my nose is not so easily mystified.  Wait till Mr. Ablewhite’s verses are followed by Mr. Ablewhite himself.”