His lordship frowned. He was not accustomed to be introduced to common persons like Cutler; Cutler, the common person, should have been presented to him.
"Mr. Cutler, Senior Partner of Cutler, Cutler and Wakethorpe, his daughter is Governor of—of—I forget the name. Jobson, let me introduce Lord Gowerhurst—" Sir Josiah went on, persisting in doing the honours the wrong way about.
Monied men no doubt, rich, opulent men, Lord Gowerhurst thought; just as well to keep in with them, one never knows.
"How de do Mr.—er—Johnson." He held out a finger and Jobson took it and shook it solemnly.
"Coombe," said Sir Josiah, "my friend, Mr. Coombe, my lord."
"Ah! ha!" said Coombe, "I've had the pleasure of meeting his lordship before; how de do, my lord? Hope I see you well?" He held out a large, red and moist hand.
Now was the moment, the moment for Jobson to hold his sides, the moment to witness the discomfiture of this Peer of the Realm. Did his lordship start? Did he turn pale? Did he tremble and turn green, as Coombe had prophesied?
No, he did not; he looked at Coombe, he put his monocle very slowly and deliberately in his eye and took another look.
"'Pon my soul, Mr.—er—Groom, did you say Groom, Sir Josiah?"
"Coombe," said Sir Josiah.