“To stay?”
“No; only to settle a few important matters there, prior to my departure for Paris.”
“You were there the best part of last summer.”
“So I was; who told you that?”
“Don’t you recollect the party you gave there, when Messrs. R—— and ladies were present, with myself, my wife, and two daughters? We never enjoyed such a day in our lives; it really was a splendid affair altogether; and what an excellent dinner you gave us in the open air, in the long avenue of beech trees facing the lake! I shall not forget it as long as I live—I may say we, for my young ones often talk about it. There were about twenty-four guests—you recollect, of course?”
“Certainly I do now, and what a lovely day it was!”
“Never saw a finer,” said my friend; “the ladies walked round the lake without their bonnets, and with nothing but their parasols to screen them from the sun. But I tell you who was most amusing amongst the party—that old Yorkshire farmer.”
“Ha, ha! old Lawrence—he is a squire now, if you please, and has retired. He was very kind to me on the occasion of the grand agricultural dinner at Exeter; the ox I roasted whole upon that occasion came from his farm; it was roasted by gas, and in the castle yard.”
“Ah, I recollect seeing an engraving of it in the Illustrated London News; I can’t help laughing when I think of the old man, for at every fresh dish of which he partook—and he tasted a good many—he exclaimed—‘Well! hang me, if I know what stuff I am eating, but it’s precious good!’”
“I know he is very eccentric; he stayed with me nearly a week, and really made me laugh heartily with his genuine repartee. He is a good and a charitable man, I assure you. I taught his housekeeper how to make cheap soup while I was at his residence, and ever since the old gentleman has given it four times a-week to the poor round his small estate, during the winter season.”