Men's Wives [11]
went home, still persisting in his plan for the assassination of Eglantine. Mr. Crump went to bed very quietly, and snored through the night in his usual tone. Mr. Eglantine passed some feverish moments of jealousy, for he had come down to the club in the evening, and had heard that Morgiana was gone to the play with his rival. And Miss Morgiana dreamed, of a man who was- -must we say it?--exceedingly like Captain Howard Walker. "Mrs. Captain So-and-so!" thought she. "Oh, I do love a gentleman dearly!" And about this time, too, Mr. Walker himself came rolling home from the "Regent," hiccupping. "Such hair!--such eyebrows!--such eyes! like b-b-billiard-balls, by Jove!'
CHAPTER II.
IN WHICH MR. WALKER MAKES THREE ATTEMPTS TO ASCERTAIN THE DWELLING OF MORGIANA. The day after the dinner at the "Regent Club," Mr. Walker stepped over to the shop of his friend the perfumer, where, as usual, the young man, Mr. Mossrose, was established in the front premises. For some reason or other, the Captain was particularly good-humoured; and, quite forgetful of the words which had passed between him and Mr. Eglantine's lieutenant the day before, began addressing the latter with extreme cordiality. "A good morning to you, Mr. Mossrose," said Captain Walker. "Why, sir, you look as fresh as your namesake--you do, indeed, now, Mossrose." "You look ash yellow ash a guinea," responded Mr. Mossrose, sulkily. He thought the Captain was hoaxing him. "My good sir," replies the other, nothing cast down, "I drank rather too freely last night." "The more beast you!" said Mr. Mossrose. "Thank you, Mossrose; the same to you," answered the Captain. "If you call me a beast, I'll punch your head off!" answered the young man, who had much skill in the art which many of his brethren practise. "I didn't, my fine fellow," replied Walker. "On the contrary, you-- " "Do you mean to give me the lie?" broke out the indignant Mossrose, who hated the agent fiercely, and did not in the least care to conceal his hate. In fact, it was his fixed purpose to pick a quarrel with Walker, and to drive him, if possible, from Mr. Eglantine's shop. "Do you mean to give me the lie, I say, Mr. Hooker Walker?" "For Heaven's sake, Amos, hold your tongue!" exclaimed the Captain, to whom the name of Hooker was as poison; but at this moment a customer stepping in, Mr. Amos exchanged his ferocious aspect for a bland grin, and Mr. Walker walked into the studio. When in Mr. Eglantine's presence, Walker, too, was all smiles in a minute, sank down on a settee, held out his hand to the perfumer, and began confidentially discoursing with him. "SUCH a dinner, Tiny my boy," said he; "such prime fellows to eat it, too! Billingsgate, Vauxhall, Cinqbars, Buff of the Blues, and half-a-dozen more of the best fellows in town. And what do you think the dinner cost a head? I'll wager you'll never guess." "Was it two guineas a head?--In course I mean without wine," said the genteel perfumer. "Guess again!" "Well, was it ten guineas a head? I'll guess any sum you please," replied Mr. Eglantine: "for I know that when you NOBS are together, you don't spare your money. I myself, at the "Star and Garter" at Richmond, once paid--" "Eighteenpence?" "Heighteenpence, sir!--I paid five-and-thirty shillings per 'ead. I'd have you to know that I can act as a gentleman as well as any other gentleman, sir," answered the perfumer with much dignity. "Well, eighteenpence was what WE paid, and not a rap more, upon my honour." "Nonsense, you're joking. The Marquess of Billinsgate dine for eighteenpence! Why, hang it, if I was a marquess, I'd pay a five-pound note for my lunch." "You little know the person, Master Eglantine," replied the Captain, with a smile of contemptuous superiority; "you little know the real man of fashion, my good fellow. Simplicity, sir--simplicity's the characteristic of the real gentleman, and so I'll tell you what we had for dinner." "Turtle and venison, of course:--no nob dines without THEM." "Psha! we're sick of 'em! We had pea soup and boiled tripe! What do you think
CHAPTER II.
IN WHICH MR. WALKER MAKES THREE ATTEMPTS TO ASCERTAIN THE DWELLING OF MORGIANA. The day after the dinner at the "Regent Club," Mr. Walker stepped over to the shop of his friend the perfumer, where, as usual, the young man, Mr. Mossrose, was established in the front premises. For some reason or other, the Captain was particularly good-humoured; and, quite forgetful of the words which had passed between him and Mr. Eglantine's lieutenant the day before, began addressing the latter with extreme cordiality. "A good morning to you, Mr. Mossrose," said Captain Walker. "Why, sir, you look as fresh as your namesake--you do, indeed, now, Mossrose." "You look ash yellow ash a guinea," responded Mr. Mossrose, sulkily. He thought the Captain was hoaxing him. "My good sir," replies the other, nothing cast down, "I drank rather too freely last night." "The more beast you!" said Mr. Mossrose. "Thank you, Mossrose; the same to you," answered the Captain. "If you call me a beast, I'll punch your head off!" answered the young man, who had much skill in the art which many of his brethren practise. "I didn't, my fine fellow," replied Walker. "On the contrary, you-- " "Do you mean to give me the lie?" broke out the indignant Mossrose, who hated the agent fiercely, and did not in the least care to conceal his hate. In fact, it was his fixed purpose to pick a quarrel with Walker, and to drive him, if possible, from Mr. Eglantine's shop. "Do you mean to give me the lie, I say, Mr. Hooker Walker?" "For Heaven's sake, Amos, hold your tongue!" exclaimed the Captain, to whom the name of Hooker was as poison; but at this moment a customer stepping in, Mr. Amos exchanged his ferocious aspect for a bland grin, and Mr. Walker walked into the studio. When in Mr. Eglantine's presence, Walker, too, was all smiles in a minute, sank down on a settee, held out his hand to the perfumer, and began confidentially discoursing with him. "SUCH a dinner, Tiny my boy," said he; "such prime fellows to eat it, too! Billingsgate, Vauxhall, Cinqbars, Buff of the Blues, and half-a-dozen more of the best fellows in town. And what do you think the dinner cost a head? I'll wager you'll never guess." "Was it two guineas a head?--In course I mean without wine," said the genteel perfumer. "Guess again!" "Well, was it ten guineas a head? I'll guess any sum you please," replied Mr. Eglantine: "for I know that when you NOBS are together, you don't spare your money. I myself, at the "Star and Garter" at Richmond, once paid--" "Eighteenpence?" "Heighteenpence, sir!--I paid five-and-thirty shillings per 'ead. I'd have you to know that I can act as a gentleman as well as any other gentleman, sir," answered the perfumer with much dignity. "Well, eighteenpence was what WE paid, and not a rap more, upon my honour." "Nonsense, you're joking. The Marquess of Billinsgate dine for eighteenpence! Why, hang it, if I was a marquess, I'd pay a five-pound note for my lunch." "You little know the person, Master Eglantine," replied the Captain, with a smile of contemptuous superiority; "you little know the real man of fashion, my good fellow. Simplicity, sir--simplicity's the characteristic of the real gentleman, and so I'll tell you what we had for dinner." "Turtle and venison, of course:--no nob dines without THEM." "Psha! we're sick of 'em! We had pea soup and boiled tripe! What do you think