"You, on the contrary, are very right, my lord," answered I; "but then I really could not help it."
Soon after this Meyler went to hunt in Leicestershire, where, according to the rules of their society, I was told I could not accompany him. However, though Meyler and I were eternally at variance when together, yet we were ever miserable and jealous whilst separated. One day I lost all patience; and, ordering post-horses, went to join him at Melton by surprise. He appeared delighted to see me; and I was invited to dine every day that I should remain in Leicestershire at their club. The house was very comfortable, and their dinners most excellent; so much so, that I remember Meyler afterwards enticed away their man-cook, who died in his house in Grosvenor Square. And further I remember, that while the said dead cook's body was in Meyler's house his religious feelings would not permit him to peruse some books which were lent him, I believe by Lord Alvanly. These books, to say the least and best of them, were what Lord F. Bentinck would have called very loose.
The members of the Melton club led what I considered a very stupid sort of life. They were off at six in the morning, dressed up in old single-breasted coats, which once had been red, and came back to dinner at six. The carroty-haired Charlton contrived to become a member of this club. I allude to the young gentleman, who was concerned with Horace Seymour in the seduction of two young mantua-makers, and who then lamented, with so much real pathos, the sad loss of his circulars.
This man would not have been tolerated at Melton, but that Brummell once said he used good perfume. Still Meyler was such a sturdy, true, obstinate, English country gentleman, as to pronounce the man half-bred, impudent, and a bore. "And then," said Lord Alvanly, who was sitting with us at dinner one day when Charlton happened to be absent, "and then has such a d—n impertinent way of nick-naming us all fools."
"True," replied Berkeley Craven, "that is really disagreeable."
"I think we ought to take notice of it," said Meyler.
"You don't say so?" observed Alvanly, growing pale. "But then," continued Alvanly, "it is not my turn you know."
"Quite the contrary," retorted Meyler, "you are the man he has most insulted. Don't you recollect the other night, besides calling you a fool, he accused you of being an old clothesman?"
"Oh! That was because I am so often in the society of Jews."
"No, it was when you were selling one of your great coats, if I remember right," retorted Meyler.