“Just half,” said Pratt. “Landells is a good chap at heart; but society is spoiling him. He came to my chambers the very next day, with a face like a turkey-cock, to ask me if it was I that he saw at the theatre. I looked at him out of the corner of one eye, and he broke down, and asked my pardon like a man. Swore he wouldn’t have minded a bit, if Van hadn’t been with him. It’s all right, Dick; I can read Felix the Unhappy like a book.”
“Well, gentlemen,” said Trevor, as they reached the steps, “it is settled for Wednesday, of course?”
“Well,” said Landells, hesitating, “I—er—I—er—”
“Oh, you must come, Flick,” said Trevor; “we’ve got all our old days to go over, and I’ve ordered the yacht round. Vanleigh, help me to persuade him.”
“You might come,” said Vanleigh, in a half-injured tone.
“Oh, I’ll go if you are going,” said Sir Felix, hastily; and then, correcting himself—“if you both really wish it.”
“That’s right,” said Trevor; “take pity on my seafaring ignorance. I shall want some company down at the old place. Pratt has promised.”
“Indeed!” said Vanleigh, fixing his glass in one eye. “I thought last night he couldn’t leave his reading?”
“Obliged to yield, like you, to the force of circumstances,” said Pratt, “and give way to our old friend’s overwhelming hospitality. But you needn’t mind, Van, old fellow, I won’t disgrace you. Look here,” he said, taking off his hat and speaking loudly, “new tile, fourteen bob—couldn’t afford a Lincoln and Bennett; brand-new gloves, two-and-three; and I’ve ordered one of Samuel Brothers’ tourist suits for the occasion.”
“My dear fellow,” said the Captain, after a look of disgust at Sir Felix, “I really do not want to know the extent of your wardrobe. In fact, mine is at your service—my valet—er—I beg your pardon, Trevor.”