Mr. Brummell opened his eyes again, and fortified himself with champagne. “Well, Bedford, there was no one on the ground, and each minute seemed an age as in terror and semi-suffocation I awaited my opponent’s approach. At length the clock of the neighbouring church announced that the hour had come. We now looked in the direction of town, but there was no appearance of my antagonist. My military friend kindly hinted that clocks and watches varied, a fact I was well aware of, and which I thought he might have spared me the pleasure of hearing him remark upon: but a second is always such a ‘damned good-natured friend’! The next quarter of an hour passed in awful silence. Still no one appeared, not even on the horizon. My friend whistled, and, confound him! looked much disappointed. The half-hour struck—still no one; the third quarter; at last the hour. My Centurion of the Coldstream now came up, this time in truth my friend and said to me, and I can tell you they were the sweetest accents that ever fell on my ear: ‘Well, George, I think we may go.’ You may imagine my relief!—‘My dear fellow,’ I replied, ‘you have taken a load off my mind: let us go immediately!”
The shout of laughter that greeted this climax brought several other people over to the group, Peregrine amongst them, who arrived in time to hear his guardian say: “Had your bloodthirsty opponent met with the accident that did not befall you, George, or was his second less determined than yours?”
“I am inclined to believe,” replied the Beau gravely, “that he realized in time the social solecism he had committed in calling me out at all.”
Peregrine worked his way through the knot of persons to Worth’s side, and touched his sleeve. The Earl turned his head, frowning a little. “Well, Peregrine, what is it?”
“I thought you had gone,” said Peregrine in a low voice. “I must have a word with you; you know that is what I came for.”
“My good boy, you cannot be private with me at Watier’s, if that is what you want. You may come and see me at my house to-morrow morning.”
“Yes, but will you be there?” objected Peregrine. “I have been to your house three times already, and you are never at home. Could I not walk back with you now?”
“You may call at my house to-morrow,” repeated the Earl wearily. “In the meantime you are interrupting Mr. Brummell.”
Peregrine blushed, begged pardon, and withdrew in some haste just as Lord Alvanley came up. Lord Alvanley’s chubby face wore a look of concern. He laid his hand on Worth’s shoulder. “Julian, I am such a stupid fellow! do pray forgive me! But, do you know, you were so curt with the boy, and he looked so uncomfortable, that I had to ask him to join us.”
“If only you would not be kind-hearted!” said the Earl. “I had snubbed him quite successfully when you intervened.”