"Well met, my Lord!" he exclaimed, grasping the ancient person's hand.
"You've heard the fight's off?"
"Is it, George? I grieve!"
"Yes, it seems Jerningham's man Croxton--The 'Thunderbolt'--fell foul
of a harmless-looking customer on his way here, and who should it be
but Jessamy himself. So they fought there instead of here, and The
'Thunderbolt's' bolt is shot, sir--and that's the dooce of it--the
whole thing's a bite!"
"Bite indeed, George!" agreed his lordship, shaking white head until
his shabby hat toppled. "Though, to be sure, my money is on Jessamy.
But indeed the affair slipped my memory--old age, George! However,
Fortune was so kind as to send me this young gentleman, a youth of
remarkably sound ideas, Sir George; his conception of the ethics of
music, for instance--"
My uncle George glanced at me, stared, uttered an unintelligible sound
and fell back, gaping.
"How are you, Uncle George!" said I, and removing my shapeless hat, I
bowed.
"Ha?" exclaimed his lordship. "You would seem to be acquainted with
each other! Pray, George, have the goodness to introduce us."
"My lord, this--this is my nephew, Peregrine--young dog--"
"What, poor Jack's boy?"
"The same, sir. Peregrine, his lordship, the Earl of Wyvelstoke.
Nephew Peregrine took it into his head to see the world, sir--and this
is how he does it!"
"Admirable!" exclaimed his lordship. "Indeed, Mr. Vereker, should you
protract your stay in these parts, I shall hope to repeat the pleasure
of this afternoon and hear more of your musical concepts.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202