'
'Do you mean the matron in blue, sir?' asked the colonel, with emphasis.
'That is Mrs Jefferson Brick, sir.'
'No, no,' said Martin, 'I mean the little girl, like a doll; directly
opposite.'
'Well, sir!' cried the colonel. 'THAT is Mrs Jefferson Brick.'
Martin glanced at the colonel's face, but he was quite serious.
'Bless my soul! I suppose there will be a young Brick then, one of these
days?' said Martin.
'There are two young Bricks already, sir,' returned the colonel.
The matron looked so uncommonly like a child herself, that Martin could
not help saying as much. 'Yes, sir,' returned the colonel, 'but some
institutions develop human natur; others re--tard it.'
'Jefferson Brick,' he observed after a short silence, in commendation
of his correspondent, 'is one of the most remarkable men in our country,
sir!'
This had passed almost in a whisper, for the distinguished gentleman
alluded to sat on Martin's other hand.
'Pray, Mr Brick,' said Martin, turning to him, and asking a question
more for conversation's sake than from any feeling of interest in its
subject, 'who is that;' he was going to say 'young' but thought it
prudent to eschew the word--'that very short gentleman yonder, with the
red nose?'
'That is Pro--fessor Mullit, sir,' replied Jefferson.
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