mbeaux! Now dust your master, Dennis,
and fetch a muslinet waistcoat--the silver tambour one. Gad, Carus, I'd
make a monstrous fine success at decorating fops for a guinea a
head--eh?"

He inspected me through his quizzing glass, nodded, backed away in
feigned rapture, and presently sat down by the window, stretching his
well-shaped legs.

"Damme," he said, "I meant to ask what's new, but you chatter on so
that I have no chance for a word edgeways. Now, what the devil is new
with you?"

"Nothing remarkable," I said, laughing. "Did you come to terms with Mr.
Rutgers for his meadows?"

"No," he replied irritably, "and I care nothing for his damned swamps
full of briers and mud and woodcock."

"It is just as well," I said. "You can not afford more land at
present."

"That's true," he admitted cheerfully; "I'm spending too much. Gad,
Carus, the Fifty-fourth took it out of us at that thousand-guinea main!
Which reminds me to say that our birds at Flatbush are in prime
condition and I've matched them."

I looked up at him doubtfully. Our birds had brought him nothing but
trouble so far.

"Let it pass," he said, noticing my silent disapproval; "we'll talk to
Horrock in the morning. Which reminds me that I have no money." He
laughed, drew a paper from his coat, and unfolding it, read aloud:

"1 pipe Madeira @ L90 per pipe--L90
1 pipe Port @ L46 per pipe--L46
20 gallons Fayal @ 5s. per gal.--
20 gallons Lisbon @ 5s. per gal.--
10 gallons Windward I. rum @ 4s. per gal."

He yawned and tossed the paper on my dresser, saying, "Pay it, Carus.
If our birds win the main we'll put the Forty-fifth under the table,
and I'll pay a few debts."

Standing there he stretched to his full graceful height, yawning once
or twice. "I'll go bathe, and dress for supper," he said; "that should
freshen me. Shall we rake it to-night?"

"I'm for cards," I said carelessly.

"_With_ Elsin Grey or _without_ Elsin Grey?" he inquired in affected
earnestness.

"If you had witnessed her treatment of me," I retorted, "you'd never
mistake it for friendly interest. We'll rake it, if you like. There's
another frolic at the John Street Theater. The Engineers play 'The
Conscious Lovers,' and Rosamund Barry sings 'Vain is Beauty's Gaudy
Flower.'"

But he said he had no mind for the Theater Royal that night, and
presently left me to Dennis and the mirror.

In the mirror I saw a b