going straight downstairs to get your good wife
to pour some cold water over your head; and then you will finish
dressing, see what you can do to get a table of some sort and lay it for
dinner, and be ready to announce my friends when they arrive, and wait
afterwards. Do you see?"

"That will be all ri', Mr. Ventimore," said Rapkin, who was not far gone
enough to be beyond understanding or obeying. "You leave it entirely to
me. I'll unnertake that your friends shall be made comforrable, perfelly
comforrable. I've lived as butler in the besht, the mosht ecxlu--most
arishto--you know the sort o' fam'lies I'm tryin' to r'member--and--and
everything was always all ri', and _I_ shall be all ri' in a few
minutes."

With this assurance he stumbled downstairs, leaving Horace relieved to
some extent. Rapkin would be sober enough after his head had been under
the tap for a few minutes, and in any case there would be the hired
waiter to rely upon.

If he could only find out where his evening clothes were! He returned to
his room and made another frantic search--but they were nowhere to be
found; and as he could not bring himself to receive his guests in his
ordinary morning costume--which the Professor would probably construe as
a deliberate slight, and which would certainly seem a solecism in Mrs.
Futvoye's eyes, if not in her daughter's--he decided to put on the
Eastern robes, with the exception of a turban, which he could not manage
to wind round his head.

Thus arrayed he re-entered the domed hall, where he was annoyed to find
that no attempt had been made as yet to prepare a dinner-table, and he
was just looking forlornly round for a bell when Rapkin appeared. He had
apparently followed Horace's advice, for his hair looked wet and sleek,
and he was comparatively sober.

"This is too bad!" cried Horace; "my friends may be here at any moment
now--and nothing done. You don't propose to wait at table like that, do
you?" he added, as he noted the man's overcoat and the comforter round
his throat.

"I do not propose to wait in any garments whatsoever," said Rapkin; "I'm
a-goin' out, I am."

"Very well," said Horace; "then send the waiter up--I suppose he's
come?"

"He come--but he went away again--I told him as he wouldn't be
required."

"You told him that!" Horace said angrily, and then controlled himself.
"Come, Rapkin, be reasonable. You can't really mean to leave your wife
to cook the dinner, and serve it too!"