"That fool," observed Atkinson, "will now run all over town, and you will see the consequence."
We met one or two others, and to them Atkinson put the same question, "I thought you knew my friend Mr Newland?" At last, just as we arrived at my own house in St James's Street, who should we meet but Harcourt. Harcourt immediately perceived me, and bowed low as he passed on, so that his bow would have served for both; but Atkinson stopped. "I must beg your pardon, Harcourt, for detaining you a moment, but what are the odds upon the Vestris colt for the Derby?"
"Upon my word, Captain Atkinson, I was told, but I have forgotten."
"Your memory appears bad, for you have also forgotten your old friend, Mr Newland."
"I beg your pardon, Mr Newland."
"There is no occasion to beg my pardon, Mr Harcourt," interrupted I; "for I tell you plainly, that I despise you too much to ever wish to be acquainted with you. You will oblige me, sir, by never presuming to touch your hat, or otherwise notice me."
Harcourt coloured, and started back. "Such language, Mr Newland—"
"Is what you deserve; ask your own conscience. Leave us, sir;" and I walked on with Captain Atkinson.
"You have done well, Newland," observed Atkinson; "he cannot submit to that language, for he knows that I have heard it. A meeting you will of course have no objection to. It will be of immense advantage to you."
"None whatever," replied I; "for if there is any one man who deserves to be punished for his conduct towards me, it is Harcourt. Will you come up, Captain Atkinson; and, if not better engaged, take a quiet dinner and a bottle of wine with me?"