Mr Drelincourt said unerringly: “ A la d’Artois, from Joubert’s. I don’t favour them myself, but they are very well—very well indeed.”
“It’s a pity you don’t,” said his lordship, “for I perceive that you may be called upon to step into them at any time.”
“Oh, hardly that, Rule! Hardly that!” protested Mr Drelincourt handsomely.
“But consider how uncertain is human life, Crosby! You yourself said it a moment back. I might at any moment be thrown from a curricle.”
“I am sure I did not in the least mean—”
“Or,” continued Rule pensively, “fall a victim to one of the cut-throat thieves with which I am told the town abounds.”
“Certainly,” said Mr Drelincourt a little stiffly. “But I don’t anticipate—”
“Highwaymen too,” mused his lordship. “Think of poor Layton, with a bullet in his shoulder on Hounslow Heath not a month ago. It might have been me, Crosby. It may still be me.”
Mr Drelincourt rose in a huff. “I see you are determined to make a jest of it. Good God, I don’t desire your death! I should be excessively sorry to hear of it. But this sudden resolve to marry when everyone had quite given up all idea of it, takes me aback, upon my soul it does! And quite a young lady, I apprehend.”
“My dear Crosby, why not say a very young lady? I feel sure you know her age.”