e had not so much changed his appearance as revived
his youth. The consciousness that he was in reality still a young man
spread over his mind afresh, and this time he felt that it was effacing
all earlier impressions. Why, when he thought of it, the delight he
had had during the day in buying new shirts and handkerchiefs and
embroidered braces, in looking over the various stocks of razors,
toilet articles, studs and sleeve-links, and the like, and telling the
gratified tradesmen to give him the best of everything--this delight had
been distinctively boyish. He doubted, indeed, if any mere youth could
have risen to the heights of tender satisfaction from which he reflected
upon the contents of his portmanteaus. To apprehend their full value one
must have been without them for such a weary time! He had this wonderful
advantage--that he supplemented the fresh-hearted joy of the youth in
nice things, with the adult man's knowledge of how bald existence could
be without them. It was worth having lived all those forty obscure and
mostly unpleasant years, for this one privilege now of being able to
appreciate to the uttermost the touch of double-silk underwear.

It was an undoubted pity that there had not been time to go to a good
tailor. The suit he had on was right enough for ordinary purposes, and
his evening-clothes were as good as new, but the thought of a costume
for shooting harassed his mind. He had brought along with him, for
this eventful visit, an old Mexican outfit of yellowish-grey cloth and
leather, much the worse for rough wear, but saved from the disreputable
by its suggestion of picturesque experiences in a strange and romantic
country. At least it had seemed to him, in the morning, when he had
packed it, to be secure in this salvation. Uneasy doubts on the subject
had soon risen, however, and they had increased in volume and poignancy
as his conceptions of a wardrobe expanded in the course of the day's
investigations and purchases. He had reached the point now of hoping
that it would rain bitterly on the morrow.

It was doubly important to keep a close look-out for Lord Plowden, since
he did not know the name of the station they were to book for, and time
was getting short. He dwelt with some annoyance upon his oversight in
this matter, as his watchful glance ranged from one entrance to another.
He would have liked to buy the tickets himself, and have everything in
readiness on the arrival of his host. As it