ft Belvoir quite early, he had expected to be on
the parade in time, the meet being close at hand. However, his favourite
hunter had landed him in a ditch, where, having been dreadfully shaken
by the fall, he had been lying for an hour. But the general was
inexorable, and Brummell used to give the worthy officer's speech in the
following style--"Sir, this conduct is wholly inexcusable. If I remember
right, sir, you once had the honour of holding a captain's commission
under his royal highness the Prince of Wales, the heir-apparent himself,
sir! Now, sir, I tell you; I tell you sir, that I should be wanting in a
proper zeal for the honour of the service; I should be wanting, sir, if
I did not this very evening report this disgraceful neglect of orders to
the commander-in-chief, as well as the state in which you present
yourself in front of your regiment; and this shall be done, sir. You may
retire, sir."

All this was very solemn and astounding; but Brummell's presence of mind
was not often astounded. He had scarcely walked his horse a few paces
from the spot, when he returned, and said in a subdued tone--"Excuse me,
general; but, in my anxiety to explain this most unfortunate business, I
forgot to deliver a message from the Duke of Rutland. It was to request
the honour of your company at dinner." The culprit and the
disciplinarian grinned together; the general coughed, and cleared his
throat sufficiently to express his thanks in these words--"Ah! why,
really I feel and am very much obliged to his grace. Pray, Major
Brummell, tell the duke I shall be most happy;" and melodiously raising
his voice, (for the Beau had turned his horse once more towards
Belvoir,) "Major Brummell, as to this little affair, I am sure no man
can regret it more than you do. Assure his grace that I shall have great
pleasure in accepting his very kind invitation;" and they parted amid a
shower of smiles. But Brummell had yet but half completed his
performance; for the invitation was extempore, and he must gallop to
Belvoir to acquaint the duke of the guest he was to receive on that day.

Brummell always appeared at the cover side, admirably dressed in a white
cravat and white tops, which latter either he, or Robinson his valet,
introduced, and which eventually superseded the brown ones. The subtlety
of Brummell's sneers, which made him so highly amusing to the first rank
of society, made him an object of alarm if not of respect to others. "Do
you