“Yes, sir, I am: for it is a fact. I’m sure I’m right.”
Sir James laughed.
“And I’m sure you are wrong. Look at my boy, now. You can see in an instant that he has breed in him; but if you look at my coachman’s son, you will see that he has no breeding at all.”
Crork, crork, crork, crork.
“Oh!” from her ladyship, in quite a scream.
“Good gracious!” cried Sir James; and the doctor and Helen Grayson both started to their feet, while Master Edgar Danby kept on making the most unearthly noises, kicking, gasping, turning black in the face, and rolling his eyes, which threatened to start from their sockets.
“What is it?” cried Sir James.
Crash went a glass. A dessert-plate was knocked off the table, and Master Edgar kept on uttering his hoarse guttural sound of crork, crork, crork!
He was choking, and the result might have been serious as he sat struggling there, with papa on one side, and mamma on the other, holding his hands, had not Dr Grayson come behind him, and given him a tremendous slap on the back which had a beneficial effect, for he ceased making the peculiar noise, and began to wipe his eyes.
“What was it, dear? what was it, my darling?” sobbed Lady Danby.