'Material enough for a Sartoriad,' said Drummond to Lady Jocelyn.
'Excellent. Pray write it forthwith, Drummond', replied her ladyship; and as they exchanged talk unintelligible to the Countess, this lady observed to the Duke:
'It is a relief to have buried that subject.'
The Duke smiled, raising an eyebrow; but the persecuted Countess perceived she had been much too hasty when Drummond added,
'I'll make a journey to Lymport in a day or two, and master his history.'
'Do,' said her ladyship; and flourishing her hand, '"I sing the Prince of
Snobs!"'
'Oh, if it's about old Mel, I 'll sing you material enough,' said Mr. George. 'There! you talk of it's being unnatural, his dining out at respectable tables. Why, I believe—upon my honour, I believe it's a fact—he's supped and thrown dice with the Regent.'
Lady Jocelyn clapped her hands. 'A noble culmination, Drummond!
The man's an Epic!'
'Well, I think old Mel was equal to it,' Mr. George pursued. 'He gave me pretty broad hints; and this is how it was, if it really happened, you know. Old Mel had a friend; some say he was more. Well, that was a fellow, a great gambler. I dare say you 've heard of him—Burley Bennet —him that won Ryelands Park of one of the royal dukes—died worth upwards of L100,000; and old Mel swore he ought to have had it, and would if he hadn't somehow offended him. He left the money to Admiral Harrington, and he was a relation of Mel's.'
'But are we then utterly mixed up with tailors?' exclaimed Mrs.
Barrington.