“And look here, waiter.”
“Yes, sir.”
“When you address me it is customary to say Sir Mark.”
“Of course, Sir Mark; my mistake, Sir Mark. I’ll mind in future.”
“Has the carriage arrived?”
“Not yet, Sir Mark.”
“Thank you; that will do. No; a moment. The wedding breakfast. Everything is quite ready, I hope?”
“The head waiter has it in ’and, Sir Mark, and the table looks lovely.”
“Thanks. Ahem! a trifle now. I shall remember you when I leave. I spoke a little testily just this minute. A little out of order, waiter. Touch of my old fever, caught in the East.”
The waiter smiled and bowed as he pocketed a new five-shilling piece, and looked with fresh interest at the fine looking, florid, elderly man who kept pacing the room with a newspaper in his hand as he talked.