“I made sure you would attend it, my lord,” said Mr Gisborne defensively.
“I am afraid you were in your cups, my dear fellow. Now tell me do my eyes deceive me, or is there a suggestion—the merest hint—of a—really, I fear I must call it a bagginess—about the ankle?”...
Mr Gisborne glanced perfunctorily down at his lordship’s shining boot.”I don’t observe it, sir.”
“Come, come, Arnold!” the Earl said gently. “Give me your attention. I beg of you!”
Mr Gisborne met the quizzical gleam in my lord’s eyes, and grinned in spite of himself. “Sir, I believe you should go. It is of some moment. In the Lower House—”
“I felt uneasy at the time,” mused the Earl, still contemplating his legs. “I shall have to change my bootmaker again.” He let his glass fall on the end of its long riband, and turned to arrange his cravat in the mirror. “Ah! Remind me, Arnold, that I am to wait on Lady Winwood at three. It is really quite important.”
Mr Gisborne stared.”Yes, sir?
“Yes, quite important. I think the new habit, the coat dos de puce —or is that a thought sombre for the errand? I believe the blue velvet will be more fitting. And the perruque a bourse? You prefer the Catogan wig, perhaps, but you are wrong, my dear boy, I am convinced you are wrong. The arrangement of curls in the front gives an impression of heaviness. I feel sure you would not wish me to be heavy.” He gave one of the lace ruffles that fell over his hand a flick. “Oh, I have not told you, have I? You must know that I am contemplating matrimony, Arnold.”
Mr Gisborne’s astonishment was plain to be seen. “You, sir?” he said, quite dumbfounded.
“But why not?” inquired his lordship. “Do you object?”