VIII. AS A FOOTMAN.
Preparations for the supper party had already commenced when Walter arrived at Mr. Tankard's. The shop had been closed at an earlier hour than usual, but was lighted up, and so arranged that the company could walk about it if they thought proper.
After casting a look around, and exchanging a word with Mr. and Mrs. Tankard, both of whom seemed very busy, Walter went up-stairs to his own room, which had now been converted into a nice little cabinet de toilette. No doubt he was indebted for this attention to Mrs. Tankard.
His first business was to try on the livery, and he was quite surprised to find how well it fitted him. We have already said it was a handsome, showy suit; and on Walter, who was very tall and extremely well proportioned, it produced its full effect.
What was his first thought as he contemplated himself in the glass, when thus metamorphosed, may be inferred from the loud laugh into which he burst.
Just at this juncture, Tom Tankard, who was now in evening dress, came into the room, and joined very heartily in the merriment.
“Excuse my laughing, Mr. Liddel,” he said; “but yourself set me off. I never beheld such a swell footman before. You'll astonish 'em down stairs presently. But I've come to tell you the coiffeur is waiting outside. I suppose you're pretty nearly ready for him?”
The hairdresser proved to be Sigebert Smart; and great was the surprise of that inquisitive individual when he found that the customer who had so much excited his curiosity had assumed a new rôle, and found a new lodging.
“Can I believe my eyes?” he exclaimed, with a theatrical start. “Do I, indeed, behold the gentleman whom I was compelled to deprive of his beard? I now understand the meaning of that order. With a costume like this, a beard would be incongruous. But is the dress worth the sacrifice?”
“Cease this foolery, and begin!” said Tom. “The gent wants his 'air powderin'. He's goin' to a fancy ball, as I told you!”