"
"My Lord," answered Barnabas, struggling with his breeches,
"your honor is surely your friend's, also?"
"Sir," said the Viscount, with arms still folded, and sitting very
upright on the bed, "were I to--call you out for that remark I
should be only within my rights."
"My Lord," answered Barnabas, struggling with his shirt, "were you
to call from now till doomsday--I shouldn't come."
"Then, sir," said the Viscount, cold and sneering, "a whip,
perhaps,--or a cane might--"
But at this juncture, with a discreet knock, Peterby entered, and,
having bowed to the scowling Viscount, proceeded to invest Barnabas
with polished boots, waistcoat and scarlet coat, and to tie his
voluminous cravat, all with that deftness, that swift and silent
dexterity which helped to make him the marvel he was.
"Sir," said he, when Barnabas stood equipped from head to foot,
"Captain Slingsby's groom called to say that his master and the
Marquis of Jerningham are expecting you and Viscount Devenham to
breakfast at 'The Chequers'--a little higher up the street, sir.
Breakfast is ordered for eight o'clock."
"Thank you, Peterby," said Barnabas, and, bowing to the Viscount,
followed him from the room and downstairs, out into the dewy
freshness of the morning.
Pages:
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577