chestnut ain’t worth the half of the price he’s set on it. “A perfect fencer,” he tells my lord. “Jumps off his hocks,” he says. Yes, I thought to myself, I wish I may see it! So I give his lordship a nudge, and he tells Mr Lucton he’ll think it over, and let him know next day, meaning, as he told me, to write him a civil note. I dare say it slipped his mind, for it was the next day that we went off to Ravenhurst. There’s no call for you to trouble yourself, Master Kit.’
‘Oh, isn’t there? Mr Lucton is coming here today, to get my answer! I shall have to buy the creature, I suppose. What’s the figure?’
‘Master Kit! You won’t never! £160 is what he told his lordship, and dear at £80 is what I say!’
‘I’ll offer him £100, and if he refuses, so much the better. I can’t say I don’t want the horse when the man’s been kept waiting for a fortnight! I’ll give him a draft on my bank—Oh, the devil! I can’t do that, can I? Well, you must go to the bank for me, Challow, and draw the money in bills. I’ll give you a cheque. I’d better make it out for £200, for I shall be needing some pitch and pay for myself. Don’t get robbed!’
‘It’s you that’s going to be robbed, sir!’ said Challow, deeply disapproving.
‘Not I! I’m buying this horse on my brother’s behalf—and serve him right!’ said Kit.
He set forth a little later to walk to Mount Street, nattily attired in the correct town-dress of a gentleman of fashion. His coat of dark blue superfine was the very latest made for Evelyn by Weston, and never yet worn by its owner; his stockinette pantaloons were knitted in the newest and most delicate dove-colour; his cambric shirt was modishly austere, with no ruffle, but three plain buttons; his waistcoat combined opulence with discretion; and his hat, set at an angle on his glowing locks, had a tall and tapering crown, smoothly brushed, and very different from the low, shaggy beaver to which Fimber had taken such instant exception. Only his Hessian boots were his own. Within ten minutes of forcing his feet into Evelyn’s shoes Kit had straitly commanded Fimber to retrieve from his baggage his own foot-wear. Fimber, obstinately prejudiced against Kit’s Viennese valet, had eyed his Hessians with contempt, but there was really no fault to be found either in their cut, or in their unsullied brilliance. Starched shirt points of moderate height, a Mathematical Tie, dogskin gloves, an elegant fob, and a malacca cane completed Mr Fancot’s attire, and caused his mama to declare that he was precise to a pin. Thus fortified, he set forth with tolerable composure to keep his appointment with Miss Stavely.
Halfway up John Street this composure was shaken by an encounter with a total stranger, who demanded indignantly what he meant by giving him the cut direct He extricated himself from this situation by pleading a brown study; but as he had no clue to the stranger’s identity, nor any knowledge of the latest on-dit s to which this Pink of the Ton made oblique references, the ensuing conversation severely taxed his ingenuity. It culminated in a pressing invitation to him to join a gathering of Evelyn’s cronies at Limmer’s Hotel that evening. He declined this, on the score of having promised to escort his mother to a ton-party; and parted from his insouciant new acquaintance imbued with a resolve to seek refuge at Ravenhurst without any loss of time.
It had been forcibly borne in upon him that a prolonged sojourn in the Metropolis would not only be extremely wearing, but would infallibly lead to his undoing.
He was admitted to Lord Stavely’s house by the butler, who came as near to bestowing a conspiratorial wink upon him as his sense of propriety permitted, and was conducted to a parlour, at the back of the house. Here Miss Stavely awaited him, becomingly attired in a morning dress of jaconet muslin, made up to the throat, its sleeves tightly buttoned at the wrists, and
‘Oh, isn’t there? Mr Lucton is coming here today, to get my answer! I shall have to buy the creature, I suppose. What’s the figure?’
‘Master Kit! You won’t never! £160 is what he told his lordship, and dear at £80 is what I say!’
‘I’ll offer him £100, and if he refuses, so much the better. I can’t say I don’t want the horse when the man’s been kept waiting for a fortnight! I’ll give him a draft on my bank—Oh, the devil! I can’t do that, can I? Well, you must go to the bank for me, Challow, and draw the money in bills. I’ll give you a cheque. I’d better make it out for £200, for I shall be needing some pitch and pay for myself. Don’t get robbed!’
‘It’s you that’s going to be robbed, sir!’ said Challow, deeply disapproving.
‘Not I! I’m buying this horse on my brother’s behalf—and serve him right!’ said Kit.
He set forth a little later to walk to Mount Street, nattily attired in the correct town-dress of a gentleman of fashion. His coat of dark blue superfine was the very latest made for Evelyn by Weston, and never yet worn by its owner; his stockinette pantaloons were knitted in the newest and most delicate dove-colour; his cambric shirt was modishly austere, with no ruffle, but three plain buttons; his waistcoat combined opulence with discretion; and his hat, set at an angle on his glowing locks, had a tall and tapering crown, smoothly brushed, and very different from the low, shaggy beaver to which Fimber had taken such instant exception. Only his Hessian boots were his own. Within ten minutes of forcing his feet into Evelyn’s shoes Kit had straitly commanded Fimber to retrieve from his baggage his own foot-wear. Fimber, obstinately prejudiced against Kit’s Viennese valet, had eyed his Hessians with contempt, but there was really no fault to be found either in their cut, or in their unsullied brilliance. Starched shirt points of moderate height, a Mathematical Tie, dogskin gloves, an elegant fob, and a malacca cane completed Mr Fancot’s attire, and caused his mama to declare that he was precise to a pin. Thus fortified, he set forth with tolerable composure to keep his appointment with Miss Stavely.
Halfway up John Street this composure was shaken by an encounter with a total stranger, who demanded indignantly what he meant by giving him the cut direct He extricated himself from this situation by pleading a brown study; but as he had no clue to the stranger’s identity, nor any knowledge of the latest on-dit s to which this Pink of the Ton made oblique references, the ensuing conversation severely taxed his ingenuity. It culminated in a pressing invitation to him to join a gathering of Evelyn’s cronies at Limmer’s Hotel that evening. He declined this, on the score of having promised to escort his mother to a ton-party; and parted from his insouciant new acquaintance imbued with a resolve to seek refuge at Ravenhurst without any loss of time.
It had been forcibly borne in upon him that a prolonged sojourn in the Metropolis would not only be extremely wearing, but would infallibly lead to his undoing.
He was admitted to Lord Stavely’s house by the butler, who came as near to bestowing a conspiratorial wink upon him as his sense of propriety permitted, and was conducted to a parlour, at the back of the house. Here Miss Stavely awaited him, becomingly attired in a morning dress of jaconet muslin, made up to the throat, its sleeves tightly buttoned at the wrists, and
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