His gay friends, during the early part of the entertainment, had observed his abstraction. The Honourable Geraldine had rallied him upon it. But in due time all had become so mellow, and merry, that no one believed any other could be troubled with depression of spirits.
An outside spectator closely scrutinising the countenance of Mr Swinton might have seen indications of such, as also on his part an effort to conceal it His eyes seemed at times to turn inward, as if his thoughts were there, or anywhere except with his roystering companions.
He had even shown neglectful of his cards; although the pigeon to be plucked was his adversary in the game.
Some powerful or painful reflection must have been causing his absent-mindedness; and it seemed a relief to him when, satiated with carousal, the convives gave tacit consent to a general débandade.
There had been eight of the supper party, and four cabs, called to the entrance door of the café, received them in assorted couples.
It was as much as most of them could do to get inside; but aided by a brace of Haymarket policemen, with a like number of waiters out of the hotel, they were at length safely stowed, and the cabs drove off.
Each driver obeyed the direction given him, Scudamore escorting home the Honourable Geraldine, or rather the reverse; while Swinton, in charge of his tipsy wife, gave his cabman the order—
“Up the Park Road to Saint John’s Wood.”
It was spoken, not loudly, but in a low muttered voice, which led the man to think they could not be a married couple.
No matter, so long as he had his fare, along with a little perquisite, which the gentleman gave him.