"Of course, to keep the Cabinet well-dressed is the principal object of my existence, and I flatter myself that under my superintendence the present Cabinet will compare favourably in taste and style with any previous one. But it is anxious, even harassin' work to decide what particular cut, colour, and texture will most suitably harmonise with each individual temperament. They cannot afford the time for interviews, so I have to anticipate the movements of ministers, and go out of my way to meet them. I track them down, as it were, and make my observations in the street, as best I can. Would you believe it, Mr. Sinnott, I was one day actually arrested for suspiciously followin' the Secretary of State for India? His trousers were positively baggin' at the knees. I couldn't take my eyes off them, and one of your smart young constables took me to Bow Street. Most humiliatin', I call it; and all because of my devotion to duty and the honour of the nation."
"Shocking," said Mr. Sinnott. "I sympathise with you, Mr. Bower. I should like to know the name of that constable."
"His name was Simpson—Archibald Simpson," replied the tailor.
Mr. Sinnott made a note of the name, and Mr. Bower continued:
"But, as I previously observed, Lord Lothersdale is a horse of another colour, if I may make use of such an expression. It is an inspiration to meet him. He is the busiest gentleman in England—bar none—but he is never too busy for a try-on or for a consultation. He is gifted, sir. He has ideas that would amaze you. The single-breasted frock-coat was his creation. What do you think of that?"
"You do astonish me, Mr. Bower. I had no idea of it."
"I knew you had not—that is where the greatness of the man comes in. It is his conception, and he is fully aware that the credit of it is attributed to me—but he does not mind. There is no petty jealousy of the profession about him. Then, silk breeches for evenin' wear. That is another of his grand ideas. You must have silk breeches if you visit at Moors, or you do not receive a second invitation. He is drastic in his methods, is my lord—a regular Roman. Mark my words, Mr. Sinnott, if the fashion takes it will be owin' to the influence of Lord Lothersdale, and once get the nation into silk breeches, and you do not know to what heights it may attain. It will be the beginnin' of a new era, the like of which no man livin' has known. I only hope I shall be here to witness its dawn."
Mr. Bower's eyes glistened, and his cheeks flushed in anticipation. Even Mr. Sinnott caught a little of his enthusiasm.
It was half-past three when they reached Moors. Lord Lothersdale could not see them until after dinner. At that moment a Japanese Surgeon-General was with him, explaining how they managed their field hospitals in the Far East. He had come by special permission of the Mikado, and had to return to the seat of war by the six o'clock train.
At nine o'clock the corporal was arrayed in the proposed new uniform for the Line—a taking arrangement in heliotrope, the outcome of Lord Lothersdale's creative genius and Mr. Bower's executive ability.