"No Scotchman ever did as far as I know," said Eustace drily. "Presbyterian wine is what you all prefer north of the Tweed."
"And a very good idea too," observed Guy, contributing his quota to the conversation, "especially on wet days."
"That's why such a lot of whisky is consumed in the Land o' Cakes," explained Eustace gravely, "it's always wet up there. Scotch mist and Scotch whisky invariably go together."
"This," remarked Laxton, alluding to the conversation, "is not a teetotol meeting."
"No one could possibly accuse it of being that," retorted Gartney, with a significant glance at the full glasses, "but if you three gentlemen don't mind talking, I'll eat in the meantime. The Soudan cook is a good one, the Gartney appetite is a large one, so thank God for all His mercies and leave me to pay attention to the good things of this life."
His three friends laughed at his humorous way of putting things, and devoted themselves to the fish. The conversation went on in a more or less frivolous fashion, the last scandal, the blunders of the Cabinet, the new novel of the realistic school, the prospects of a war in the East--all these were discussed in their turn by the quartette, and then Laxton began to argue with Otterburn about the African expedition, so seizing the opportunity Guy bent forward to speak to Eustace.
"I want to talk to you after dinner," he said in a low voice.
"Certainly," replied Gartney carelessly, "but will you have time? What about the theatre?"
"I've changed my mind," said Guy quickly, "so I sent an excuse to Mrs. Veilsturm. Have you anything particular to do? If not we can go to your rooms. I won't detain you long."
Eustace flashed a keen look on his cousin, and paused a moment before replying: