“Nonsense, you're joking. The Marquess of Billinsgate dine for eighteenpence! Why, hang it, if I was a marquess, I'd pay a five-pound note for my lunch.”
“You little know the person, Master Eglantine,” replied the Captain, with a smile of contemptuous superiority; “you little know the real man of fashion, my good fellow. Simplicity, sir—simplicity's the characteristic of the real gentleman, and so I'll tell you what we had for dinner.”
“Turtle and venison, of course:—no nob dines without THEM.”
“Psha! we're sick of 'em! We had pea soup and boiled tripe! What do you think of THAT? We had sprats and herrings, a bullock's heart, a baked shoulder of mutton and potatoes, pig's-fry and Irish stew. I ordered the dinner, sir, and got more credit for inventing it than they ever gave to Ude or Soyer. The Marquess was in ecstasies, the Earl devoured half a bushel of sprats, and if the Viscount is not laid up with a surfeit of bullock's heart, my name's not Howard Walker. Billy, as I call him, was in the chair, and gave my health; and what do you think the rascal proposed?”
“What DID his Lordship propose?”
“That every man present should subscribe twopence, and pay for my share of the dinner. By Jove! it is true, and the money was handed to me in a pewter-pot, of which they also begged to make me a present. We afterwards went to Tom Spring's, from Tom's to the 'Finish,' from the 'Finish' to the watch-house—that is, THEY did—and sent for me, just as I was getting into bed, to bail them all out.”
“They're happy dogs, those young noblemen,” said Mr Eglantine; “nothing but pleasure from morning till night; no affectation neither—no HOTURE; but manly downright straightforward good fellows.”
“Should you like to meet them, Tiny my boy?” said the Captain.
“If I did sir, I hope I should show myself to be gentleman,” answered Mr. Eglantine.
“Well, you SHALL meet them, and Lady Billingsgate shall order her perfumes at your shop. We are going to dine, next week, all our set, at Mealy-faced Bob's, and you shall be my guest,” cried the Captain, slapping the delighted artist on the back. “And now, my boy, tell me how YOU spent the evening.”