‘I’m afraid you didn’t manage the old boy,’ Palmet complained.  ’They’re people who have tea in their gardens; we might have sat down with them and talked, the best friends in the world, and come again to-morrow might have called her Jenny in a week.  She didn’t show her pretty nose at any of the windows.’

His companion pooh-poohed and said:  ’Foh!  I’m afraid I permitted myself to lose my self-command for a moment.’

Palmet sang out an amorous couplet to console himself.  Captain Baskelett respected the poetic art for its magical power over woman’s virtue, but he disliked hearing verses, and they were ill-suited to Palmet.  He abused his friend roundly, telling him it was contemptible to be quoting verses.  He was irritable still.

He declared himself nevertheless much refreshed by his visit to Dr. Shrapnel.  ’We shall have to sleep tonight in this unhallowed town, but I needn’t be off to Holdesbury in the morning; I’ve done my business.  I shall write to the baron to-night, and we can cross the water to-morrow in time for operations.’

The letter to Mr. Romfrey was composed before midnight.  It was a long one, and when he had finished it, Cecil remembered that the act of composition had been assisted by a cigar in his mouth, and Mr. Romfrey detested the smell of tobacco.  There was nothing to be done but to write the letter over again, somewhat more briefly:  it ran thus: 

’Thinking to kill two birds at a blow, I went yesterday with Palmet after the dinner at this place to Shrapnel’s house, where, as I heard, I stood a chance of catching friend Nevil.  The young person living under the man’s protection was absent, and so was the “poor dear commander,” perhaps attending on his bull.  Shrapnel said he was expecting him.  I write to you to confess I thought myself a cleverer fellow than I am.  I talked to Shrapnel and tried hard to reason with him.  I hope I can keep my temper under ordinary circumstances.  You will understand that it required remarkable restraint when I make you acquainted with the fact that a lady’s name was introduced, which, as your representative in relation to her, I was bound to defend from a gratuitous and scoundrelly aspersion.  Shrapnel’s epistle to “brave Beauchamp” is Church hymnification in comparison with his conversation.  He is indubitably one of the greatest ruffians of his time.

’I took the step with the best of intentions, and all I can plead is that I am not a diplomatist of sixty.  His last word was that he is for war with us.  As far as we men are concerned it is of small importance.  I should think that the sort of society he would scandalize a lady in is not much to be feared.  I have given him his warning.  He tops me by about a head, and loses his temper every two minutes.  I could have drawn him out deliciously if he had not rather disturbed mine.  By this time my equanimity is restored.  The only thing I apprehend is your displeasure with me for having gone to the