“Why, here are two Dukes with their Duchesses, Marquises and Counts by
the score, half-a-dozen ministers plenipotentiary, and a perfect cloud
of chamberlains and court swells.”
“They 'd cut a great figure, I 've no doubt, Hotham, on the quarter-deck
of the 'Thunder Bomb,' where you eke out the defects of a bad band with
a salute from your big guns, and give your guests the national anthem
when they want champagne. Oh dear, there's no snob like a sailor!”
“Well, if they 're not good enough for you, why the devil do you ask
them?” cried Hotham, sturdily.
“Sir, if I were to put such a question to myself, I might shut up my
house to-morrow!” And with this very uncourteous speech he arose and
left the room.
We continued, however, to fill in the cards of invitation and address
the envelopes, but with little inclination to converse, and none
whatever to refer to what had passed.
“There,” cried Cleremont, as he checked off the list. “That makes very
close on seven hundred. I take it I may order supper for six hundred.”
Then turning half fiercely to me, he added: “Do you know, youngster,
that all this tomfoolery is got up for _you?_ It is by way of
celebrating your birthday we're going to turn the house out of the
windows!”
“I suppose my father has that right, sir.”
“Of course he has, just as he would have the right to make a ruin of the
place to-morrow if he liked it; but I don't fancy his friends would be
the better pleased with him for his amiable eccentricity: your father
pushes our regard for him very far sometimes.”
“I 'll tell him to be more cautious, sir, in future,” said I, moving
towards the door.
“Do so,” said he. “Good-night.”
I had scarcely taken my bedroom candle when I felt a hand on my
shoulder: I turned and saw Madame Cleremont standing very pale and in
great agitation at my side. “Oh, Digby,” said she, “don't make that man
your enemy whatever you do; he is more than a match for you, poor
child!” She was about to say more when we heard voices in the corridor,
and she hurried away and left me.
CHAPTER XI. A BIRTHDAY DINNER
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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