“We’ve got to support the dignity of the establishment as gentlemen in the Prince’s train. It wants it badly enough, with all these sausage-eating Vans and Vons and Herrs. We must do it while things are in this state for the sake of old England.”
“I wish I had never come here,” said Frank dismally. “No, I don’t,” he added cheerfully. “I am close to my mother, and I see father sometimes. I say, didn’t he look well at the head of his company yesterday?”
“Splendid!” cried Andrew warmly. “Here, cheer up, young one; you’ll soon get to like it; and one of these days we’ll both be marching at the heads of our companies.”
“Think so?” cried Frank eagerly.
“I’m sure of it. Of course I like our uniform, and thousands of fellows would give their ears to be pages at the Palace; but you don’t suppose I mean to keep on being a sort of lapdog in the anteroom. No. Wait a bit. There’ll be grand times by-and-by. We must be like the rest of the best people, looking forward to the turn of the tide.”
Frank glanced quickly at the tall, handsome lad at his side, and quickened his pace and lengthened his stride to keep up with him, for he had drawn himself up and held his head back as if influenced by thoughts beyond the present. But he slackened down directly.
“No need to make ourselves hot,” he said. “You’d like to run, you little savage; but it won’t do now. Let the mob do that. Look! that’s Lord Ronald’s carriage. Quick! do as I do.”
He doffed his hat to the occupant of the clumsy vehicle, Frank following his example; and they were responded to by a handsome, portly man with a bow and smile.
“I say,” said Frank, “how stupid a man looks in a great wig like that.”
“Bah! It is ridiculous. Pretty fashion these Dutchmen have brought in.”