Mr. Snaffle, at the club meeting, made the very same proposal to Mr. Woolsey that the perfumer had made; and stated that as Eglantine was going to ride Hemperor, Woolsey, at least, ought to mount too. But he was met by the same modest refusal on the tailor's part, who stated that he had never mounted a horse yet, and preferred greatly the use of a coach.
Eglantine's character as a “swell” rose greatly with the club that evening.
Two o'clock on Sunday came: the two beaux arrived punctually at the door to receive the two smiling ladies.
“Bless us, Mr. Eglantine!” said Miss Crump, quite struck by him, “I never saw you look so handsome in your life.” He could have flung his arms around her neck at the compliment. “And law, Ma! what has happened to Mr. Woolsey? doesn't he look ten years younger than yesterday?” Mamma assented, and Woolsey bowed gallantly, and the two gentlemen exchanged a nod of hearty friendship.
The day was delightful. Eglantine pranced along magnificently on his cantering armchair, with his hat on one ear, his left hand on his side, and his head flung over his shoulder, and throwing under-glances at Morgiana whenever the “Emperor” was in advance of the clarence. The “Emperor” pricked up his ears a little uneasily passing the Ebenezer chapel in Richmond, where the congregation were singing a hymn, but beyond this no accident occurred; nor was Mr. Eglantine in the least stiff or fatigued by the time the party reached Richmond, where he arrived time enough to give his steed into the charge of an ostler, and to present his elbow to the ladies as they alighted from the clarence carriage.
What this jovial party ate for dinner at the “Star and Garter” need not here be set down. If they did not drink champagne I am very much mistaken. They were as merry as any four people in Christendom; and between the bewildering attentions of the perfumer, and the manly courtesy of the tailor, Morgiana very likely forgot the gallant Captain, or, at least, was very happy in his absence.
At eight o'clock they began to drive homewards. “WON'T you come into the carriage?” said Morgiana to Eglantine, with one of her tenderest looks; “Dick can ride the horse.” But Archibald was too great a lover of equestrian exercise. “I'm afraid to trust anybody on this horse,” said he with a knowing look; and so he pranced away by the side of the little carriage. The moon was brilliant, and, with the aid of the gas-lamps, illuminated the whole face of the country in a way inexpressibly lovely.
Presently, in the distance, the sweet and plaintive notes of a bugle were heard, and the performer, with great delicacy, executed a religious air. “Music, too! heavenly!” said Morgiana, throwing up her eyes to the stars. The music came nearer and nearer, and the delight of the company was only more intense. The fly was going at about four miles an hour, and the “Emperor” began cantering to time at the same rapid pace.
“This must be some gallantry of yours, Mr. Woolsey,” said the romantic Morgiana, turning upon that gentleman. “Mr. Eglantine treated us to the dinner, and you have provided us with the music.”
Now Woolsey had been a little, a very little, dissatisfied during the course of the evening's entertainment, by fancying that Eglantine, a much more voluble person than himself, had obtained rather an undue share of the ladies' favour; and as he himself paid half of the expenses, he felt very much vexed to think that the perfumer should take all the credit of the business to himself. So when Miss Crump asked if he had provided the music, he foolishly made an evasive reply to her query, and rather wished her to imagine that he HAD performed that piece of gallantry. “If it pleases YOU, Miss Morgiana,” said this artful Schneider, “what more need any man ask? wouldn't I have all Drury Lane orchestra to please you?”