“Mr. Wilson, have I had any experience of the world?” “Ample, madam, ample.” “And there should be one very good reason, sir,” she said, coquettishly, “why you should humor me in the matter.” Wilson stared. “I like to be amused, sir, by the wit and wisdom of a man of the world. These Sussex folk are terribly dull. I shall die of ennui there, unless—” “Unless, madam?” “You take pity on an old woman, and put your most delightful tongue at her service.” Thus, thanks to the Lady Letitia’s diplomacy, Richard Jeffray was compelled to ransack his dead father’s wardrobe in order to provide his friend with fitting clothes for the occasion. He discovered a sky-blue silk coat that fitted Wilson very respectably. He also provided the painter with a bag-wig, a pair of black silk breeches, white stockings, a richly frilled shirt, a lace cravat, and an old court-sword. The painter made by no means a poor figure as he stood before the fire in Rodenham hall, waiting for the Lady Letitia to descend to the coach. Certainly the muscularity of his calves was too much in evidence; his back resembled a barn door, and his fiery face seemed in need of powder. Richard Wilson looked a gentleman of solidity and distinction, so long as he kept his feet still and did not get into difficulties with his sword. His dignity in such finery was intended to be of the statuesque order. Set him in motion, and his lumbering limbs moved with the clumsy stiltedness of a mechanical figure. Hardacre House was brilliantly lit that night. The wax-candles in the rooms and galleries would have stocked a country shop a whole year. The major-domo and the serving-men were wearing new liveries of blue plush. The great baronial hall had been cleared for the rout, the floor waxed and polished till it shone, the suits of armor burnished to the radiance of silver, the escutcheons over the great stone fireplace repainted. In the minstrels’ gallery above the oak screen were two violins, a bassoon, a ’cello, and a flute. Sir Peter had hired his musicians at The Wells, so that his guests should not complain of the quality of the music. The hall was gay with bright coats and handsome gowns, when the Rodenham company, properly and discreetly masked, were ushered in unannounced by the major-domo.