Life has gone on in all this Arcadian simplicity for full five
weeks, when the appearance of the Colonel at the breakfast-table,
blue frock-coated and stiff-collared, instead of in the usual easy
garb adopted by him in the country of a morning, shows some intended
change in his proceedings. The wags of the household, Badger Bobus
and his set, are absent from the breakfast-table; for there was a
heavy billiard-match on the night before, and they were yet sleeping
off its effects. Nevertheless the change in the Colonel's costume is
not unobserved; but before a delicately-contrived question can be put
to extract its meaning, the Colonel himself announces that he has to
go to town for a day, and may possibly be prevented from returning
that night. Modified expressions of horror from the young ladies
and gentlemen about to act in the amateur theatricals, then close
impending--fears that everything will go wrong during the manager's
absence, and profound distrust of themselves without his suggestions
and experience. The Colonel takes these compliments very coolly--is
pretty nearly certain to be back that night; and his absence will
give them a chance of striking-out any new lights which may occur to
them, and which can be tendered for his acceptance on his return. Miss
Orpington, when appealed to to persuade her father not to be longer
away than is absolutely necessary, meets the matter with her usual
shoulder-shrug, and a calm declaration that in those matters she never
interferes, and papa always pleases himself.
The Yorkshire baronet with money to whom she is engaged, and who does
not put in appearance until after the Colonel's announcement has been
made (he was one of the most interested in the billiard-match, and ran
Badger Bobus very hard at the last), is really delighted at the news.
He and the Colonel get on very well together--they are on the best of
terms both as regards present and prospective arrangements; but there
is, as Sir George Hawker remarks, something about the "old boy" which
did not "G" with his, Sir George's, notions of perfect comfort.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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