Trevor could perceive that the whole of William’s ironical sally was inspired by envy of him, and was gratified accordingly; and thought within himself, “Your shy, gawky, ill-dressed men always hate a jolly fellow with a good coat to his back just because the women know the difference, and I wonder where poor Maubray has been trying his arts and fascinations; he has been awfully shut up, that’s clear,” so thought Vane Trevor, as he added aloud—
“If you’re going to London, as you say, I’ll give you a note with pleasure to my man, if you like the sort of things he makes,” said Trevor; “but I give you notice he won’t do his best unless you seem to take an interest, you know.”
“Thanks—no,” laughed William, a little fiercely, “the tailor might do his office, but I should still want too many essentials. Where would be the good of that sort of thing without the rest, and I never could go the whole animal—the whole brute, and if I could I would not. You may smile⸺”
“I am not smiling.”
“But I swear to you I wouldn’t.”
“Oh, you’re very well,” said Trevor, encouragingly. “Quiet man. What good could that sort of thing do you at the bar, for instance? And when you’re Lord Chancellor with your peerage and your fortune up in London, I shall be still plain Trevor of Revington down here, vegetating, by Jove!”
“I’ll never be that, but I may do some good—a little perhaps. Enough to interest me in life, and that’s all I want,” said William, who was fiercely resolved on celibacy.
“I am going over to see the people at the Rectory—jolly old fellow old Wagget is; and I thought I’d just look in on you. You’re not for a walk, are you?”
“No, thanks,” said William very shortly, and added, “I’m sorry I can’t, but I’ve letters this morning, and must be ready for the post.”
“Well, good-bye then,” said Trevor, and shook hands like a man going a long journey; and William glanced in his eyes, and saw what he was about, and thought, “He’ll be sure to see her this morning.”