I saw that this move required an exchange of ratifications, and so I bowed, and said, “Algernon Sydney Potts.”
“There are Staffordshire Pottses?”
“No relation,” I said stiffly. It was Hammond who made the remark, and with a sneering manner that I could not abide.
“Well, Mr. Potts, it is agreed,” said Lord Keldrum, with his peculiar urbanity, “we shall see you at eight No dressing. You'll find us in this fishing-costume you see now.”
I trust my reader, who has dined out any day he pleased and in any society he has liked these years past, will forgive me if I do not enter into any detailed account of my reasons for accepting this invitation. Enough if I freely own that to me, A. S. Potts, such an unexpected honor was about the same surprise as if I had been announced governor of a colony, or bishop in a new settlement.
“At eight sharp, Mr. Potts.”
“The next door down the passage.”
“Just as you are, remember!” were the three parting admonitions with which they left me.