"Before we adjourn," said Lady Caroline, "I must do what it will be difficult to accomplish after supper;" and for the first time a sharp, sarcastic tone jarred in her smooth voice. "I must introduce you especially to my husband. Mr. Brithwood?"
"Madam." He lounged up to her. They were a diverse pair. She, in her well-preserved beauty, and Gallic artificial grace—he, in his coarse, bloated youth, coarser and worse than the sensualism of middle age.
"Mr. Brithwood, let me introduce you to a new friend of mine."
The 'squire bowed, rather awkwardly; proving the truth of what Norton Bury often whispered, that Richard Brithwood was more at home with grooms than gentlemen.
"He belongs to this your town—you must have heard of him, perhaps met him."
"I have more than had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Brithwood, but he has doubtless forgotten it."
"By Jove! I have. What might your name be, sir?"
"John Halifax."
"What, Halifax the tanner?"
"The same."