Anthony let himself out.
The second footman's inability to comprehend the matter continued until a quarter-past one. It was at that hour that he did as he had been told, and carried Lord Pomfret's luncheon up to his room….
The condition of his lordship's countenance was most illuminating.
CHAPTER III.
THE VOICE OF THE TURTLE
Sitting in the garden of the little Hertfordshire inn, Anthony drafted his application with the utmost care. All the time he tried to keep a tight hand upon his hopes—unruly and mettlesome fellows, which more than once had carried him into the meadow of Expectation before he knew where he was. There the going was splendid—till you came to the sunk fence….
His letter, when finally settled, was comprehensive enough.
c/o "The Leather Bottel."
Nr. Malory,
Herts.
SIR (OR MADAM),
I beg to offer myself for the situation advertised in yesterday's issue of "The Times."