They talked now and again, but long before the dessert appeared they had dropped into a mutual silence. Then Mr. Stibbings carried in, daintily and carefully, a bottle of the famous Leyton port, and, with the air of one bestowing a farewell benediction, glided out and left the two gentlemen alone.
"Do you drink port, Blair?" said the earl, with his hand on the decanter.
"Yes, sir; I drink anything," replied the young man, awaking with a little start.
"You have a good digestion—good constitution?" said the earl.
"Oh, yes," assented Lord Blair, cheerfully; "I suppose so. Never had a day's illness in my life that I can remember, and can eat anything."
The earl looked at him musingly.
"And yet——" he paused, "your habits are not regular; you keep late hours?"
Lord Blair laughed.
"I'm seldom in bed before ten," he said. "Yes," he added, "I'm afraid I don't keep very good hours; it's generally daylight before I am in my little cot. What capital port, sir!"
"Yes? I do not drink it," said the earl.