Mrs. Tankard received the intelligence with great good nature, and Tom was told to take Mr. Liddel up-stairs and show him the spare room, which proved to be a very neat little chamber.
They were still talking together, when Mr. Tankard came up with a large brown-paper parcel, and, deeming it advisable to mystify his son, winked at Walter, to let him into his plan, and then said to the hopeful youth:
“Do you know, Tom, Mr. Liddel is going to a fancy dress ball?”
“How jolly!” exclaimed Tom. “What costume?”
“As a footman,” replied old Tankard. “Here's his dress.”
“As a footman!” exclaimed Tom, with a droll expression. “Jeames of Buckley Square—or Chawles. Well, he's just the figure for one of those gentry. Is he going to the ball to-night?”
“No; but I've persuaded him to appear in private at my little party this evening, that we may see how he looks.”
“Oh! he can't fail to look well,” said Tom, somewhat sarcastically. “But let's see the dress, guv'nor. Beg pardon, Mr. Liddel! I ought to have asked your permission.”
“Oh, don't stand on any ceremony with me, I beg!” cried Walter.
The parcel was then opened, and a very handsome suit of livery produced. There was likewise another rather smaller parcel inside.