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‘Oh!’ said Peregrine. ‘So you are here! I have been searching for you all over town!’
The Earl cast him a look of faint surprise, and gathered up his cards. ‘Well, now that you have found me, do you think you could sit down – keeping me under observation, if you like – until after the game?’ he said.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you!’ said Peregrine. ‘Only they told me at White’s you were out of town, and when I called at the Alfred they said you had not been there for months.’
‘Come and take a hand,’ said Lord Alvanley kindly. ‘You should not have wasted your time at the Half-Read, my boy. They have seventeen bishops there, so I hear. Worth and I gave it up after the eighth. As for White’s, it is my beliefWorth taught them always to say he was out of town. Do you care to join us?’
Peregrine, much flattered, thanked him, and took a place between Sir Henry Mildmay and a gentleman with very red hair and very blue eyes, whom he discovered later to be Lord Yarmouth. The stakes at the table were extremely high, and he soon found that his luck was quite out. This did not trouble him much, for he did not think Worth could very well refuse to pay any debts he might incur over and above what little remained of the quarter’s allowance. He took his losses in good part, and cheerfully wrote a number of I O Us, which Worth, who held the bank, accepted with an unmoved countenance.
Mr Brummell, who had come over to observe the game, lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. The hour was considerably advanced, and the table broke up before the bank changed hands. Mr Brummell took the Earl away with him in search of iced champagne, and murmured: ‘Must he play at your table, Julian? Really, you know, it does not look well.’
‘Young fool,’ said the Earl, unemotionally.
‘Just a little out of place,’ said Brummell, taking a glass from the tray a waiter was presenting to him.
The Duke of Bedford came up at that moment with Lord Frederick Bentinck and Mr Skeffington, forming the nucleus of the circle that very soon gathered round Mr Brummell, and nothing more was said of Peregrine and his losses. The Duke, who was a great personal friend of the Beau, wanted his opinion on a matter of some importance. ‘Now George, tell me!’ he said earnestly. ‘I have changed my tailor, you know, and this is the coat my new man has made for me. What do you say? Will it answer? Do you like the cut of it?’
Mr Brummell continued to sip his champagne, but over the rim of his glass he gazed thoughtfully at his grace, while the circle about him waited in interested silence for his verdict. The Duke stood anxiously showing himself off. Mr Brummell’s eyes dwelled for an appreciable time upon the coat’s very bright gilt buttons; he gave a faint sigh and the Duke blenched.
‘It sets well; I like the long tails,’ said Lord Frederick. ‘Who made it, Duke? Nugee?’
‘Turn round,’ said Mr Brummell.
The Duke pivoted obediently, and stood craning his head over his shoulder to see what effect this aspect of the garment produced on the Beau. Mr Brummell examined him from head to foot, and walked slowly round him. He studied the length of the tails, and pursed his lips; he observed the cut across the shoulders, and raised his brows. Lastly, he took one of the lapels between his finger and thumb, and carefully felt it. ‘Bedford,’ he said earnestly, ‘do you call this thing a coat?’
The Duke, with a ludicrous expression, half of dismay, half of amusement, on his face, interrupted the laughter of the circle. ‘No, really, George, that’s too bad of you! Upon my word, I have a good mind to call you out for it!’
‘You may call me, Bedford, but there it will end, I warn you,’ replied Brummell. ‘I haven’t the least intention of putting a period to my existence in such a hideous way as that.’
‘Did you ever fight a duel, Brummell?’ inquired Mr Montagu, astride a cabriole chair.
‘Thank God, no!’ said the Beau, with a shudder. ‘But I once had an affair at Chalk Farm, and a dreadful state I was in: never in my life shall I forget the horrors of the previous night!’
‘Any sleep, George?’ asked Worth, smiling.
‘None, not a wink. It was out of the question. Dawn was to me the harbinger of Death, and yet I almost hailed it with pleasure. But my second’s step on the stair soon spoiled that feeling, for what must he do but carefully explain all the horrid details to me, thus annihilating the little – the very little – courage that had survived the anxieties of the night! We left the house, and no accident, no fortunate upset occurred on our way to the rendezvous, where we arrived, according to my idea, much too soon, a quarter of an hour before the time named.’ He paused, closing his eyes as though overcome by the recollection.
‘Go on, George: what happened?’ demanded the Duke, highly entertained.
Mr Brummell opened his eyes again, and fortified himself with champagne. ‘Well, Bedford, there was no one on the ground, and each minute seemed an age as in terror and semi-suffocation I awaited my opponent’s approach. At length the clock of the neighbouring church announced that the hour had come. We now looked in the direction of town, but there was no appearance of my antagonist. My military friend kindly hinted that clocks and watches varied, a fact I was well aware of, and which I thought he might have spared me the pleasure of hearing him remark upon: but a second is always such a “damned good-natured friend”! The next quarter of an hour passed in awful silence. Still no one appeared, not even on the horizon. My friend whistled, and, confound him! looked much disappointed. The half-hour struck – still no one; the third quarter; at last the hour. My Centurion of the Coldstream now came up, this time in truth my friend and said to me, and I can tell you they were the sweetest accents that ever fell on my ear: “Well, George, I think we may go.” You may imagine my relief ! – “My dear fellow,” I replied, “you have taken a load off my mind: let us go immediately!”’
The shout of laughter that greeted this climax brought several other people over to the group, Peregrine amongst them, who arrived in time to hear his guardian say: ‘Had your bloodthirsty opponent met with the accident that did not befall you, George, or was his second less determined than yours?’
‘I am inclined to believe,’ replied the Beau gravely, ‘that he realised in time the social solecism he had committed in calling me out at all.’
Peregrine worked his way through the knot of persons to Worth’s side, and touched his sleeve. The Earl turned his head, frowning a little. ‘Well, Peregrine, what is it?’
‘I thought you had gone,’ said Peregrine in a low voice. ‘I must have a word with you; you know that is what I came for.’
‘My good boy, you cannot be private with me at Watier’s, if that is what you want. You may come and see me at my house to-morrow morning.’
‘Yes, but will you be there?’ objected Peregrine. ‘I have been to your house three times already, and you are never at home. Could I not walk back with you now?’
‘You may call at my house to-morrow,’ repeated the Earl wearily. ‘In the meantime you are interrupting Mr Brummell.’
Peregrine blushed, begged pardon, and withdrew in some haste just as Lord Alvanley came up. Lord Alvanley’s chubby face wore a look of concern. He laid his hand on Worth’s shoulder. ‘Julian, I am such a stupid fellow! do pray forgive me! But, do you know, you were so curt with the boy, and he looked so uncomfortable, that I had to ask him to join us.’
‘If only you would not be kind-hearted!’ said the Earl. ‘I ha
