“Let us postpone it until to-morrow, my dear Miss Goose, if you really don’t mind,” said Cheriton. “The conversation is so absorbing. The preserved ginger is highly delectable too.”
Miss Perry shared the latter opinion.
“Green Chartreuse or Grand Marnier, my lord?” said Mr. Marchbanks.
“Both,” said my lord.
Mr. Marchbanks dissembled his surprise in an extremely well-bred manner. In his eyes, however, a peer of the realm was in the happy position of Cæsar’s wife.
It must not be assumed, however, that Cheriton indulged in both these luxuries. His respect for the internal economy forbade that course. But observing that George Betterton selected Green Chartreuse he contrived to smuggle unseen the Grand Marnier to George’s side of the table. He then addressed his mind to slumber. After a full twenty minutes thus blissfully stolen he awoke with a little start.
“Beg pardon, George,” said he. “Did I understand you to say the Militia had gone to the dooce and the country must be reconstructed, or that the Country had gone to the dooce and the Militia must be reconstructed?”
“The Country, Cheriton,” said Caroline Crewkerne, in her most affairé manner; “certainly the Country.”
“What a good head you have, Caroline!” said Cheriton, giving expression to a somnolent admiration. “Take after your father. Sorry to interrupt you, George. Most able discourse. By the way, Caroline, you never give one the treat of the famous old brandy these days. Not for myself. I never touch brandy; but I was thinking of George. It is known to be excellent for any kind of disquisition.”
George Betterton, duly fortified with a little of the famous old brandy, and with a yet further supply of Grand Marnier, which Cheriton caused to be conveyed to him, proceeded on his victorious way.