VIII. AS A FOOTMAN.
Preparations for the supper party had already commenced when Walter arrived at Mr. Tankard's. The shop had been closed at an earlier hour than usual, but was lighted up, and so arranged that the company could walk about it if they thought proper.
After casting a look around, and exchanging a word with Mr. and Mrs. Tankard, both of whom seemed very busy, Walter went up-stairs to his own room, which had now been converted into a nice little cabinet de toilette. No doubt he was indebted for this attention to Mrs. Tankard.
His first business was to try on the livery, and he was quite surprised to find how well it fitted him. We have already said it was a handsome, showy suit; and on Walter, who was very tall and extremely well proportioned, it produced its full effect.
What was his first thought as he contemplated himself in the glass, when thus metamorphosed, may be inferred from the loud laugh into which he burst.
Just at this juncture, Tom Tankard, who was now in evening dress, came into the room, and joined very heartily in the merriment.
“Excuse my laughing, Mr. Liddel,” he said; “but yourself set me off. I never beheld such a swell footman before. You'll astonish 'em down stairs presently. But I've come to tell you the coiffeur is waiting outside. I suppose you're pretty nearly ready for him?”
The hairdresser proved to be Sigebert Smart; and great was the surprise of that inquisitive individual when he found that the customer who had so much excited his curiosity had assumed a new rôle, and found a new lodging.
“Can I believe my eyes?” he exclaimed, with a theatrical start. “Do I, indeed, behold the gentleman whom I was compelled to deprive of his beard? I now understand the meaning of that order. With a costume like this, a beard would be incongruous. But is the dress worth the sacrifice?”
“Cease this foolery, and begin!” said Tom. “The gent wants his 'air powderin'. He's goin' to a fancy ball, as I told you!”
Begging Walter to take off his coat, and flinging a loose gown over his shoulders, and giving him a napkin to protect his eyes, Sigebert set to work, and carefully powdered the young man's fine brown locks, pausing ever and anon in his task.
At length, he exclaimed, as he laid down the powder-puff:
“Now you'll do, sir—now you'll do! What do you think of the effect, Mr. Tom?” he added, appealing to our fat friend.
“Hum!” cried Tom, without delivering an opinion. “Wants a little more at the back, don't it?”
“Not a particle! Couldn't be better!” said Sigebert. “Now, let me help you on with your coat,” he added to Walter.
And having thus aided in arraying him, he exclaimed, in affected admiration:
“Why, you're quite a picture, sir! You eclipse the finest of the Court lacqueys! You'd get a first-rate place, if you wanted!”
“That he would!” laughed Tom. “What's the damage, Sigebert?”
“Would five shillings be too much?” said the coiffeur, with a droll expression. “It's half a crown for a real footman!”
“Well, here's a crown,” replied Walter.
Sigebert received the money with a bow, and, while putting his things together, said:
“May I inquire where the fancy ball takes place?”
“Not far off,” replied Tom.
“Here?” asked Sigebert.
Tom nodded.
“I guessed as much,” said Sigebert. “Judging from this specimen, it will be very good. But how is it you're not in character, Mr. Tom?”
“Domino and mask easily put on!” replied Tom not caring to enlighten him further.
Upon this, Sigebert bowed and departed, Tom attending him as far as the shop.
As he went out, the hairdresser saw Pledger Dapp, whom he knew, with his assistants, bringing in the supper; and he also saw Larkins, with some flowers, but he did not say anything to either of them. In fact, he was absorbed in thought.
When he got out into the street, he stood still for a few moments, and reflected.
“What the deuce is he doing here?” he thought. “He seems to have changed his quarters. And what's the meaning of this disguise?—for disguise I believe it is. Something may be made of the discovery.”
Having arrived at this conclusion, he hailed a hansom cab, and bade the coachman drive to the Grosvenor Hotel.
IX. IN WHICH MISS CLOTILDE TRIPP AND MISS FLORA SICKLE-MORE MAKE THEIR APPEARANCE.
|Not long after Sigebert's departure, Mr. Higgins, Lady Thicknesse's butler, arrived, and was cordially welcomed by Mr. Tankard.
Stout, florid, bald-headed, well-mannered, quiet, wearing a white choker and a black dress coat, Mr. Higgins seemed the very model of a butler, and he certainly was most useful and important in the establishment over which he ruled. Lady Thicknesse confessed she could not do anything without Higgins.
“Odd things occurred this afternoon.” remarked Higgins, after a little preliminary converse; “and I'll mention it now, while there's an opportunity. Sir Bridgnorth Charlton called on my lady; but, as she wasn't at home at the time, he conferred with me, and inquired whether I knew anything about Mr. Chetwynd Calverley. I told him 'no.' I had often heard the name in Cheshire, but had never, that I was aware of, seen the gentleman. This didn't satisfy Sir Bridgnorth. He next inquired whether we had recently discharged a footman, and I told him 'yes,' but we had just engaged another, though I myself had not yet seen the new man, but I expected he would enter on the place to-morrow. I had received a very good character of him from you. Sir Bridgnorth then inquired your address, which I gave him, and likewise the young man's name—Walter Liddel—and he expressed his intention of calling upon you. I can't tell what he wants, or why he began by asking about Mr. Chetwynd Calverley.”
“Sir Bridgnorth has not been here yet, and I've nothing to tell him when he does come,” remarked Tankard. “I never heard of Mr. Chetwynd Calverley. Who is he?”
“The son of a rich gentleman who lived at Ouselcroft, in Cheshire. He was ruined on the turf, and disinherited by his father, and his stepmother has got the entire property. These circumstances happened about a year ago, and were the talk of the county at the time, so perhaps you may have heard of them.”
“No; they're news to me,” replied Tankard. “I never was in Cheshire—never heard of Ouselcroft, or the Calverleys. But the case is not very extraordinary. We do hear occasionally of youngsters getting ruined on the turf, and being disinherited in consequence. It's a piece of luck for the stepmother.”
“Yes; and she's young and handsome!” said Higgins.
Their converse was here interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Tankard and Tom, both of whom expressed themselves as very glad to see Mr. Higgins.
The lady wore a yellow satin dress, covered with black lace, and a rather showy cap; and Tom had the usual evening dress, with white tie and polished boots.
Tea and coffee had just been brought in by a female servant, when a knock was heard at the side-door, and directly afterwards a very tall, well-powdered footman advanced with stately step into the room, and announced, in agreeable tones, not too loud, but quite loud enough, Mr. Henry Netterville.
Nothing could be more effective than Walter's entrance.
Higgins gazed at him in astonishment. Prepared as he was to behold a fine, tall footman, he had not expected such a well-grown, handsome young fellow as this.
“By Jove! he'll do!” he exclaimed.
Harry Netterville, who was by no means a bad-looking fellow, and no smaller than the rest of his species, was completely dwarfed by the tall footman.
Tankard and his wife expressed their satisfaction in low tones; but the irrepressible Tom gave a little applause.
Walter, however, having done his devoir, immediately withdrew, being summoned by another knock at the door; but presently reappeared and ushered in Mrs. Tripp and her daughter, who were quite astonished at being thus introduced, and thought the Tankards must have taken leave of their senses.
Mrs. Tripp was a milliner, and Clotilde Tripp, who assisted her mother, was a very pretty girl, and looked upon Tom as an admirer.
But she had a formidable rival in Flora Sicklemore, whose mother kept a Berlin wool, fringe, and trimming warehouse in Kennington Road. Flora was quite as pretty as Clotilde—much prettier, in her own opinion—for had she not bright golden locks and a very fair skin—while Clotilde's tresses were coal-black, and her complexion olive-coloured!
Both charmers were smartly dressed, and both bent on captivating Tom.
Like the Tripps, the Sicklemores were filled with amazement at the sight of the grand footman, but they felt sure such an extraordinary addition to the establishment could only have been made by Tom.
Everybody had now arrived, except the Hartleys.
At last they appeared. Walter received them as he had done the others, at the side-door, and offered to announce them, but Rose wouldn't let him; so they entered the room quite quietly, but were very cordially welcomed by the host and hostess; and even Tom, for some reason or other, was particularly civil to them. He paid Rose a great many compliments; but they were appreciated by the young lady at what they were worth; and she gladly turned to Harry Netterville, who was dying to talk to her, and who devoted himself to her for the rest of the evening.
Meanwhile, Higgins, wishing to have a word with the new footman, went in quest of him with Mr. Tankard.
They found him in the shop, which communicated with the other rooms. Bows and presentations took place. Then the parties shook hands.
“'Pon my word, Liddel,” said Higgins, in a good-natured but extremely patronising manner, “you promise exceedingly well! Indeed, with a little instruction, which I shall be extremely happy to give you, I unhesitatingly assert you will 'do!'”
“Such commendation from a gentleman of your judgment and experience is extremely encouraging, Mr. Higgins,” said Walter, bowing. “I was really desirous you should see me before I was finally engaged, that you might form your own opinion as to my capabilities.”
“I had perfect confidence in my friend Tankard,” replied Higgins; “nor did he mislead me. You have great personal advantages, Liddel, and they count for much in a footman. I will say this for you, and you may take it as a high compliment, I have never before seen our livery look so well.”
“I am much gratified,” replied Walter, again bowing.
“A single question, and I have done,” said Higgins. “Do you happen to know Sir Bridgnorth Charlton?”
“I am aware there is such a person,” replied Walter, rather embarrassed.
“I've also a question to ask you, Liddel,” remarked Tankard. “Did you ever hear of Mr. Chetwynd Calverley?”
“Not lately,” replied Walter, without hesitation; “and I don't think I am likely to hear of him again very soon. I fancy he has disappeared altogether. But why do you inquire, sir?”
“Sir Bridgnorth Charlton was asking about him this morning,” interposed Higgins: “and, somehow, you got mixed up in the inquiry.”
“That's strange,” replied Walter. “Surely he didn't suppose I was Mr. Calverley?”
“No; he didn't think that,” rejoined Higgins, laughing; “but he wanted some information respecting the young gentleman.”
“Well, I'm unable to give him any,” said Walter.