“The livery I hope will fit you, as I am rather particular about how you’ll look; get quietly down to the stable-yard and drive the tilbury into Cheltenham, where wait for further orders from your kind master, “John Waller.” The horrible villany of this wild scamp actually paralysed me. That I should put on such ridiculous trumpery was out of the question; yet what was to be done? I rung the bell violently; “Where are my clothes, Thomas?” “Don’t know, sir; I was out all the morning, sir, and never seed them.” “There, Thomas, be smart now and send them up, will you?” Thomas disappeared, and speedily returned to say, “that my clothes could not be found any where; no one knew any thing of them, and begged me to come down, as Miss Kamworth desired him to say that they were still waiting, and she begged Mr. Lorrequer would not make an elaborate toilette, as they were going on a country excursion.” An elaborate toilette! I wish to heaven she saw my costume; no, I’ll never do it. “Thomas, you must tell the ladies and the colonel, too, that I feel very ill; I am not able to leave my bed; I am subject to attacks—very violent attacks in my head, and must always be left quiet and alone—perfectly alone—mind me, Thomas—for a day at least.” Thomas departed; and as I lay distracted in my bed, I heard, from the breakfast room, the loud laughter of many persons evidently enjoying some excellent joke; could it be me they were laughing at; the thought was horrible. “Colonel Kamworth wishes to know if you’d like the doctor, sir,” said Thomas, evidently suppressing a most inveterate fit of laughing, as he again appeared at the door. “No, certainly not,” said I, in a voice of thunder; “what the devil are you grinning at?” “You may as well come, my man; you’re found out; they all know it now,” said the fellow with an odious grin.