Verty tried the coat on, and O’Brallaghan declared, enthusiastically, that it fitted him “bewchously.”

Mr. Roundjacket informed Verty that it would be better to get the suit, if it fitted, inasmuch as O’Brallaghan would probably take double the time he promised to make his proper suit in—­an observation which O’Brallaghan repelled with indignation; and so the consequence was, that a quarter of an hour afterwards Roundjacket and Verty issued forth—­the appearance of the latter having undergone a remarkable change.

Certainly no one would have recognized Verty at the first glance.  He was clad in a complete cavalier’s suit—­embroidered coat-ruffles and long flapped waistcoat—­with knee-breeches, stockings of the same material, and glossy shoes with high red heels, and fluttering rosettes; a cocked hat surmounted his curling hair, and altogether Verty resembled a courtier, and walked like a boy on stilts.

Roundjacket laughed in his sleeve at his companion’s contortions, and on their way back stopped at the barber and surgeon’s.  This professional gentleman clipped Verty’s profuse curls, gathered them together carefully behind, and tied them with a handsome bow of scarlet ribbon.  Then he powdered the boy’s fine glossy hair, and held a mirror before him.

“Oh!  I’m a great deal better looking now,” said Verty; “the fact is, Mr. Roundjacket, my hair was too long.”

To this Mr. Roundjacket assented, and they returned, laughing, to the office.

Verty looked over his shoulder, and admired himself with all the innocence of a child or a savage.  One thing only was disagreeable to him—­the high heels which Mr. O’Brallaghan had supplied him with.  Accustomed to his moccasins, the heels were not to be endured; and Verty kicked both of them off against the stone steps with great composure.  Having accomplished this feat, he re-entered.

“I’m easier now,” he said.

“About what?”

“The heels.”

Mr. Roundjacket looked down.

“I could’nt walk on ’em, and knocked ’em off,” Verty said.

Mr. Roundjacket uttered a suppressed chuckle; then stopping suddenly, observed with dignity:—­

“Young man, that was very wrong in you.  Mr. Rushton has made you a present of that costume, and you should not injure it; he will be displeased, sir.”

“I will be nothing of the sort,” said a growling voice; and turning round, the clerk found himself opposite to Mr. Rushton, who was looking at Verty with a grim smile.

“Kick away just as you please, my young savage,” said that gentleman, “and don’t mind this stuff from Roundjacket, who don’t know civilized from Indian character.  Do just as you choose.”

“May I?” said Verty.

“Am I to repeat everything?”

“Well, sir, I choose to have a holiday this morning.”

“Hum!”

“You said I might do as I wanted to, and I want to go and take a ride.”