“Six feet two,” replied Walter.
“Capital!” cried Tankard. “Stay! One thing mustn't be neglected,” he added, rubbing his chin expressively. “You must get rid of that handsome brown beard.”
“S'death! must I shave?” cried Walter, amid the general merriment.
“Certainly, my dear fellow,” replied Tankard. “Whoever heard of a footman in a beard? Follow my instructions, and you may make yourself quite easy about the place. I'll engage you shall obtain it.”
“But I've not quite decided myself,” said Walter.
“Pooh! nonsense! you can't do better,” cried Tankard. “Can he, gentlemen?”
Everybody concurred with him in opinion.
Partly in jest, partly in earnest, Walter assented. So much, in fact, was said in favour of the plan, that he began to grow reconciled to it.
As the clock struck eleven, Mrs. Hartley came in, and her appearance was the signal for the breaking up of the party.
While shaking hands with Walter, Mr. Tankard renewed his promises, and said: