“I liked what I saw of him,” said Guy, “and I guess you’ll take to him when you know him better, Bert. Anyway, he’s a gentleman. You might have been saddled with a regular mucker, you know. We get one now and then.” “Stop looking at me,” said Nick. “Oh, he’s a gentleman, all right,” laughed Bert. “That’s the trouble. I’ve got to live up to him, don’t you see? I dare say he will put on a dinner jacket and stuff his handkerchief up his sleeve. He makes me feel like an awfully rough, uncivilized sort of fellow.” “Does he wear a wrist watch?” asked Nick. “No, he has it on a fob. And, say, fellows, if you want to see some swell things, come up and give his dresser the once-over! Solid silver everything! Crest, too. Oh, we’re going to be pretty classy in 29 this year, I can tell you!” And Bert sighed. “I’ll have to look up my crest,” observed Nick thoughtfully. “Your crest!” jeered Bert. “That’s what I said. I’ve got a peachy one. Dad had someone make it for him and put it on the automobile doors. It was the proper caper that year to have your crest on your auto, and Dad doesn’t let anyone put anything over on him. I told him I thought a cake of soap, rampant, surrounded by the motto, ‘Won’t dry the skin,’ would be rather appropriate, but he didn’t like it. Dad makes soap, you know.” “Yes, I do know,” replied Guy. “I tried some of it once. And it didn’t dry the skin, either. It took it off.” “Well, you’re not supposed to wash your hands with laundry soap,” said Nick. “Of course, if you’re used to that sort, though, and don’t know any better――――” “I suppose,” said Guy gravely, “you’ll have to sort of look after Ordway, Bert, now that he hasn’t any valet; lay out his things in the morning, you know, and put his studs in, and all that.” “Fine!” approved Nick. “Maybe he will give you a tip now and then. Say, did you pipe the gray suede gloves he wore? Think of gloves on a day like this! Still, _noblesse oblige_, eh, what?” “I noticed the stunning Norfolk suit he wore,” said Guy. “I’ll bet that wasn’t cut out by any village tailor down in Maryland.” “Rawther not!” drawled Nick. “I fawncy he goes across every year and gets togged out in Bond Street. What ho, old top!” “Well, I guess I’ll go back and pilot him down to supper,” said Bert. “Mind if I bring him down here afterwards, Guy? Or, say, you fellows come up, will you? I――I sort of funk the job of talking up to his level all evening!” “You bet we’ll come,” agreed Nick. “I want to meet him. Something tells me that he and I have a lot of mutual acquaintances amongst royalty in dear old England.” “Well, don’t come up there and act the fool,” warned Bert. “He’s new yet and not used to our simple, democratic ways.” “Oh, I won’t shock him,” chuckled Nick. “Nothing like that, dear boy, ’pon honor. You’ll see that he and I will get along like a house on fire. Say, what’s his front name, the one you take hold by?”