The Duke, striding forward, held out both his hands. "Sir Tristram! And how long is it to be Sir Tristram?"
The other shrugged his shoulders.
"For a few hours, more or less, I suppose. I don't know much about this kind of thing. I daresay I shall know more about it when I've done."
"When you've done? May that not be for many and many a year! Allow me to introduce to you a friend of mine--Mr. Thomas Stanham."
Sir Tristram turned. For the first time he appeared to notice Mr. Stanham.
Physically the new great man was short, and inclined to ponderosity. The entire absence of hair upon his face served to accentuate its peculiar characteristics. It was a square face--and, in particular, the jaw was square. His big eyes looked from under a penthouse formed by his overhanging brows. As one looked at him one instinctively felt that this was a man whom it would be safer to have as a friend than an enemy. As he turned a faint smile seemed to be struggling into existence about the corners of his great mouth. But directly his glance alighted upon Mr. Stanham that smile vanished into the ewigkeit. He looked at him very much as a bull-terrier might look at a rat. And he said, in a tone of voice which seemed fraught with curious significance--
"I have had the pleasure of meeting this gentleman before."
On his part Mr. Stanham regarded Sir Tristram with a supercilious air which, perhaps unconsciously to himself, was only too frequently seen upon his face--as if Sir Tristram were an inferior thing.
"I'd no idea that your name was Triggs."
The Duke, standing behind Sir Tristram, clenched his fists, and glared at Mr. Stanham as if he would like to have knocked him down.