"Positively--new!" repeated the Marquis in an awestruck voice,
staring at the Viscount wide-eyed. "D'you grasp the importance of
this, Devenham?--d'you see the possibilities, Dick? It will create a
sensation,--it will set all the clubs by the ears, by George! We
shall have the Prince galloping up from Brighton. By heaven, it's
stupendous! Permit me, my dear Beverley. See--here we have three
folds and a tuck, then--oh, Jupiter, it's a positive work of art,
--how the deuce d'you tie it? Never saw anything approaching this,
and I've tried 'em all,--the Mail-coach, the Trone d'Amour, the
Osbaldistone, the Napoleon, the Irish tie, the Mathematical tie, and
the Oriental,--no, 'pon my honor it's unique, it's--it's--" the
Marquis sighed, shook his head, and words failing him, took out his
enamelled snuff-box. "Sir," said he, "I have the very highest regard
for a man of refined taste, and if there is one thing in which that
manifests itself more than another, it is the cravat. Sir, I make
you free of my box, pray honor me." And the Marquis flicked open his
snuff-box and extended it towards Barnabas with a bow.
"My Lord," said Barnabas, shaking his head, "I appreciate the honor
you do me, but pray excuse me,--I never take it."
"No?" said the Marquis with raised brows, "you astonish me; but
then--between ourselves--neither do I. Can't bear the infernal stuff.
Makes me sneeze most damnably. And then, it has such a cursed way of
blowing about! Still, one must conform to fashion, and--"
"Captain Slingsby!"
The Gentleman-in-Powder had scarcely articulated the words, when the
Captain had gripped Barnabas by the hand.
"Congratulate you, Beverley, heartily."
"Thank you, but why?" inquired Barnabas.
"Eh--what? Hasn't Jerningham told you? B'gad, is it possible you
don't know--"
"Why, dooce take me, Sling, if I didn't forget!" said the Marquis,
clapping hand to thigh, "but his cravat put everything else out of
my nob, and small wonder either! You tell him."
"No," answered the Captain. "I upset a cursed apple-stall on my way
here--you got in first--tell him yourself."
"Why, then, Beverley," said the Marquis, extending his hand, in his
turn, as he spoke, "we have pleasure, Sling and I, to tell you that
you are entered for the race on the fifteenth."
"The race!" exclaimed Barnabas, flushing. "You mean I'm to ride then?"
"Yes," nodded the Captain, "but b'gad! we mean more than that, we
mean that you are one of us, that Devenham's friend must be ours
because he's game--"
"And can ride," said the Viscount.
"And is a man of taste," added the Marquis.
Thus it was as one in a dream that Barnabas beheld the legs of the
Gentleman-in-Powder, and heard the words: "Dinner is served, gentlemen!"
But scarcely had they taken their places at the table when the
Marquis rose, his brimming glass in his hand.