“I 'd as soon see a gentleman exposed to the assault of a mastiff as to the insulting coarseness of such a fellow as that,” said Temple, passionately.
“The mischief's done already; I heard the governor say, as he took leave,—'Captain Craufurd, are you too strait-laced to dine out on a Sunday? if not, will you honor us with your company at eight o'clock?' And though he repeated the words 'eight o'clock' with a groan like a protest, he muttered something about being happy, a phrase that evidently cost him dearly, for he went shuffling down the avenue afterwards with his hat over his eyes, and gesticulating with his hands as if some new immorality had suddenly broke in upon his mind.”
“You mean to say that he is coming to dinner here next Sunday?” asked Temple, horrified.
“A little tact and good management are always sufficient to keep these sort of men down,” said Augustus.
“I hope we don't ask a man to dinner with the intention to 'keep him down,'” said Jack, sturdily.
“At all events,” cried Temple, “he need not be presented to Lord Culduff.”
“I suspect you will see very little of him after dinner,” observed Harding, in his meek fashion, “That wonderful '32 port will prove a detainer impossible to get away from.”
“I 'll keep him company, then. I rather like to meet one of those cross-grained dogs occasionally.”
“Not impossibly you'll learn something more of that same 'public opinion' of our neighbors regarding us,” said Marion, haughtily.
“With all my heart,” cried the sailor, gayly; “they 'll not ruffle my temper, even if they won't flatter my vanity.”