“‘Take what you like, Raggs—only don’t ask me to be of the party;’ and with that he gazed at the wine between himself and the candle with the glance of a true connoisseur.
“‘I’ll tell you,’ said he, ‘a little occurrence which happened me some years since, not far from this; in fact, I may confess to you, it was at Chatsworth. George the Forth came down on a visit to us for a few days in the shooting-season,—not that he cared for sport, but it was an excuse for something to do. Well, the evening he arrived, he dined in his own apartment, nobody with him but—’
“Just at this instant the landlord entered, with a most obsequious face and an air of great secrecy.
“‘I beg pardon, gentlemen,’ said he; ‘but there’s a carriage come over from Chats worth, and the footman won’t give the name of the gentleman he wants.’
“‘Quite right,—quite right,’ said the Duke, waving his hand. ‘Let the carriage wait. Come, Raggs, you seem to have nothing before you.’
“‘Bless your Grace,’ said I, ‘I ‘m at the end of my third tumbler.’
“‘Never mind,—mix another;’ and with that he pushed the decanter of brandy towards me, and filled his own glass to the brim.
“‘Your health, Raggs,—I rather like you. I confess,’ continued he, ‘I’ve had rather a prejudice against your order. There is something d——d low in cutting about the country with patterns in a bag.’