can we not all remember in our lives when it would have been so
much wittier and wiser to say and do nothing?

Florac, a very sober drinker like most of his nation, was blessed with
a very fine appetite, which, as he said, renewed itself thrice a day
at least. He now proposed supper, and poor Jack was for supper too, and
especially more drink, champagne and seltzer-water; "bring champagne and
seltzer-water, there is nothing like it." Clive could not object to this
entertainment, which was ordered forthwith, and the four young men sat
down to share it.

Whilst Florac was partaking of his favourite ecrevisses, giving not only
his palate but his hands, his beard, his mustachios and cheeks a full
enjoyment of the sauce which he found so delicious, he chose to revert
now and again to the occurrences which had just passed, and which had
better perhaps have been forgotten, and gaily rallied Belsize upon his
warlike humour. "If ze petit pretendu was here, what would you have done
wiz him, Jac? You would croquer im, like zis ecrevisse, hein? You would
mache his bones, hein?"

Jack, who had forgotten to put the seltzer-water into his champagne,
writhed at the idea of having Barnes Newcome before him, and swore,
could he but see Barnes, he would take the little villain's life.

And but for Clive, Jack might actually have beheld his enemy. Young
Clive after the meal went to the window with his eternal cigar, and
of course began to look at That Other window. Here, as he looked, a
carriage had at the moment driven up. He saw two servants descend, then
two gentlemen, and then he heard a well-known voice swearing at the
couriers. To his credit be it said, he checked the exclamation which was
on his lips, and when he came back to the table did not announce to
Kew or his right-hand neighbour Belsize, that his uncle and Barnes had
arrived. Belsize, by this time, had had quite too much wine: when the
viscount went away, poor Jack's head was nodding; he had been awake all
the night before; sleepless for how many nights previous. He scarce took
any notice of the Frenchman's departure.

Lord Kew remained. He was for taking Jack to walk, and for reasoning
with him further, and for entering more at large than perhaps he chose
to do before the two others upon this family dispute. Clive took a
moment to whisper to Lord Kew, "My uncle and Barnes are arrived, don't
let Belsize go out; for goodness' sake let us get him to bed."

And lest the