"Very likely; and depend on one thing, my dear Doltimore, that when I am in the Cabinet, a certain friend of mine shall be an earl. Adieu."
"Good-by, my dear Vargrave, good-by; and, I say,—I say, don't distress yourself about that trifle; a few months hence it will suit me just as well."
"Thanks. I will just look into my accounts, and use you without ceremony. Well, I dare say we shall meet at Paris. Oh, I forgot,—I observe that you have renewed your intimacy with Legard. Now, he is a very good fellow, and I gave him that place to oblige you; still, as you are no longer a garcon—but perhaps I shall offend you?"
"Not at all. What is there against Legard?"
"Nothing in the world,—but he is a bit of a boaster. I dare say his ancestor was a Gascon, poor fellow!—and he affects to say that you can't choose a coat, or buy a horse, without his approval and advice,—that he can turn you round his finger. Now this hurts your consequence in the world,—you don't get credit for your own excellent sense and taste. Take my advice, avoid these young hangers-on of fashion, these club-room lions. Having no importance of their own, they steal the importance of their friends. Verbum sap."
"You are very right,—Legard is a coxcomb; and now I see why he talked of joining us at Paris."
"Don't let him do any such thing! He will be telling the Frenchmen that her ladyship is in love with him, ha, ha!"
"Ha, ha!—a very good joke—poor Caroline!—very good joke!"
"Well, good-by, once more." And Vargrave closed the door.
"Legard go to Paris—not if Evelyn goes there!" muttered Lumley. "Besides, I want no partner in the little that one can screw out of this blockhead."