This restorative brought Mr. Rodney to. Lady Barrington was, of course, one of his oldest and most valued friends.
"The question of answering invitations is certainly one of vital importance," he began with soft animation. "For my part, as a citizen of the world, I cannot help thinking that——"
"Never give a bullock sulphur," said Mr. Bush, now fully roused to epigram—"never do it, or you'll repent of it."
Mr. Rodney was seldom in his life nearer making use of the foolish and tiresome monosyllable "damn."
"And how about the bullock?" said his Grace, assuming the helplessness of his appearance, and laying aside the usual grimacing geniality of his manner. "If the bullock has the sulphur, and you repent of it, what will be the exact mental condition of the swallower?"
All now prepared to hang upon the man from Bungay's words—all, that is, except Mr. Rodney, who again closed his eyes, and Mr. Ingerstall, whose silence is accounted for by the fact that all this time he was sitting in a corner and drawing an elaborate caricature of the paragon. But Mr. Bush was not of a temper to give satisfaction to impertinent questioning; he suddenly turned sulky, and, after muttering heavily "Let the bullock alone, and the bullock 'll let you alone!" he appeared to fall asleep. Mrs. Verulam was very angry with the Duke for thus spoiling a delightful evening, so she smiled with extraordinary sweetness, and set Lady Drake at him while she devoted herself to the Duchess. The latter, lethargic though she was, became suspicious of her hostess's extraordinary affability, and of the perfectly free hand which the Van Adam was being allowed with the Lady Pearl. She could not realise that Mrs. Verulam's sudden access of seraphic sweetness was occasioned solely by the fury of a woman who sees her hero balked by a blunderer in the very hour of his triumph. It therefore suddenly occurred to her Grace that possibly Mrs. Verulam and Mr. Van Adam were trying to blind her and the world, that possibly they were even using her precious, her gouty and innocent Pearl after the manner of a stalking horse. Under the seizure of these black surmisings, she replied to Mrs. Verulam's blandishments rather plethorically, and her eyes became enormously prominent, as was their custom in moments of acute mental strain. Mrs. Verulam was at first too angry to notice the rather abrupt assumption by the Duchess of a private enquiry agent's manner when in converse with a suspected party, but possibly she would have been forced to observe it had not Mr. Ingerstall suddenly shot forward from his corner, obtruded his squat form between them, and hissed, in a pattering whisper:
"He's asleep, isn't he?"
"Asleep! Who?" cried the Duchess, startled.
For Mr. Ingerstall's proceedings were intensely rapid, and were always carried forward with a masterly disregard of other people's feelings. Mr. Ingerstall, with incomparable agility, indicated Mr. James Bush, who at that moment emitted a reassuring snore.
"Yes, he is. I've got something to show you."