It was pretty evident that he had not been out all day; for he was unshaven—and he wore the light blue dressing-gown, the bright red trousers, and the scarlet silk cap, which his dear wife had devised as a most becoming morning costume, but which gave him the appearance of a Mussulman quack-doctor, as the golden lustre of the handsome lamp brought forth all the flaunting effects of the garb.
Advancing towards the time-piece, Sir Christopher compared his watch with that dial.
"A quarter to nine!" he murmured to himself, as he restored the huge gold repeater to his fob; "and the doctors have been an hour with her already! Well—I never heard of such a thing before—three months after marriage—it's impossible—quite impossible! Dr. Wagtail is a very clever man, no doubt—but he's wrong for once in his life. If it was six or seven months, now—one might suppose that a premature birth—but three months——"
And the worthy knight paced the apartment in a manner which showed that "he didn't know wha the deuce to make of it."
"Well," he continued, again speaking in a murmuring tone, after a short pause, "it may be so, after all! For really science does discover such wonderful things now-a-days, and the world seems to undergo so many strange changes, that upon my word I should not be at all surprised if, on going out some morning, I was to see the people walking on their heads along Jermyn Street. Ah! things weren't like this when I was a boy! But then I must recollect that I live in the fashionable quarter of the town now, and ladies at the West End ain't like those vulgar citizens' wives. Thank God that I didn't get in for Portsoken! It was quite enough to have filled the high and responsible office of Sheriff, and to have received the distinguished honour of knighthood——But, three months!" exclaimed Sir Christopher, interrupting himself, and flying back with ludicrous abruptness to the idea that was uppermost in his mind; "three months! And, after all, who knows but that it's the fashion at the West End; and I'm sure that if it is, I shall be very glad that it has happened so. And yet the most extraordinary part of the business is that—when I suspected something of the kind, and just hinted at it to Lady Blunt—she—she scratched my face to pieces for me. Very extraordinary, indeed!"
Sir Christopher now became lost in a maze of conjecture, vague suspicion, and bewilderment, through which he certainly could not find his way; and heaven only knows how long he might have remained in the labyrinth, had not Dr. Wagtail appeared to his rescue.
"Well, doctor?" exclaimed the knight, hastening to meet the physician.
"My dear Sir Christopher, I congratulate you!" said Dr. Wagtail, considering it decent and becoming to assume a joyous and smirking expression of countenance for the occasion, while he wrung the knight's hand with most affectionate warmth: "for it is my duty," he continued, now suddenly adopting the pompous and important style of the fashionable physician to a rich family,—"for it is my duty, Sir Christopher, to announce to you that you are the happy father of a charming boy, with whom her ladyship has been kind enough to present you."
"A boy—eh, doctor?" faltered the knight. "But of course it isn't—I mean—it can't be—a—a—full grown child?"