"'Tis easy, Tom, old and comfortable, d'ye see, while my new ones are so—so plaguy fine and overpowering as 'twere, so to speak, that I feel scarce worthy of 'em. So I—I treasure 'em, Tom, for—for great occasions and the like——"
"A grave fallacy, nunk! Modish garments must be worn whiles the prevailing fashion holds—to-day they are the mode, to-morrow, the devil! Fashion, sir, is coquettish as woman or weathercock, 'tis for ever a-veering, already there is a new button-hole."
"Indeed, Tom! Egad you stagger me!"
"Cansequently sir, being a dutiful nephew, I took thought to order you three more new suits—
"The devil you did!"
"Having special regard to this new button-hole, sir——"
"These will make nine o' them!" sighed the Major.
"Your pardon, sir, exactly thirty-one, neither more or less!"
"Good God, Tom!" ejaculated the Major, halting on the terrace-steps to stare h is amazement, "Thirty-one of 'em? How the deuce——"
"Cut aslant, d'ye see, nunky, and arabesqued with lace of gold or silver——"