[CHAPTER XI]
It was quite time for me to go and get ready to join Mr. Perry. Indeed, it was more than time, as I found when I went upstairs, and was greeted by Lord Arthur with the remark that if I wasn't in the hall ready for the carriage when it came round I should hear about it.
But I found him a good deal more anxious to be friendly than before, and presently discovered that the reason for this was that it had got about in the household that I was a "Highlander." I did not contradict the report, but refrained from giving him any information about where I really had come from, for one thing because I didn't think he would believe me, and for another because I thought it might not be a bad thing to be looked upon as the altogether superior being which the dwellers in that remote part of Upsidonia were evidently considered to be.
Fortunately, I was just ready to step into the carriage when it came round, and thus escaped an expression of censure from the coachman, who drove off quickly towards Culbut.
We picked up Mr. Perry, and as we drove on to his club I managed to bring into the conversation a reference to the Highlands. He expressed considerable surprise to hear that I was an inhabitant of that region, which was not altogether gratifying. But he explained that, having first met me on the opposite side of the city, it had not occurred to him that I was a Highlander, otherwise he would certainly have guessed it from my perfect manners.
We arrived at the club very well pleased with one another. It was a large building, luxuriously furnished, but in very bad taste. There were some atrocious pictures on the walls, and the decorations were garish.
The big room into which we first went was full of opulent-looking gentlemen, lounging in easy chairs, drinking and smoking and talking to one another. We joined a group of them, and Mr. Perry introduced me to one or two, addressing them in a genially patronising manner. He did not tell them that I was a Highlander, and I suppose they took me for one of themselves, for their greeting was not ceremonious.
However, one of them was good enough to ask me what I would take, and I said a small whisky and soda. This was brought by a haughty-looking servant in a powdered wig and crimson plush breeches, who held out his salver, not to my entertainer but to me, and I paid for my drink and his as well, as it seemed to be expected of me.