‘You did well,’ observed Lord Scamperdale—­’you did well, and I fully intended to let you off, but then I didn’t know what a beggar I had to deal with.  Come, say you’ll go, that’s a good fellow.’

‘Couldn’t,’ replied Jack, squinting frightfully.

‘You’ll oblige me,’ observed Lord Scamperdale.

‘Ah, well, I’d do anything to oblige your lordship,’ replied Jack, thinking of the corner in the will.  ’I’d do anything to oblige your lordship:  but the fact is, sir, I’m not prepared to go.  I’ve lost my specs—­I’ve got no swell clothes—­I can’t go in the Stunner tartan,’ added he, eyeing his backgammon-board-looking chest, and diving his hands into the capacious pockets of his shooting-jacket.

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‘I’ll manage all that,’ replied his lordship; ’I’ve got a pair of splendid silver-mounted spectacles in the Indian cabinet in the drawing-room, that I’ve kept to be married in.  I’ll lend them to you, and there’s no saying but you may captivate Miss Jawleyford in them.  Then as to clothes, there’s my new damson-coloured velvet waistcoat with the steel buttons, and my fine blue coat with the velvet collar, silk facings, and our button on it; altogether I’ll rig you out and make you such a swell as there’s no saying but Miss Jawleyford’ll offer to you, by way of consoling herself for the loss of Sponge.’

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to make a settlement for me, then,’ observed our friend.

‘Well, you are a good fellow.  Jack,’ said his lordship, ’and I’d as soon make one on you as on any one.’

‘I s’pose you’ll send me on wheels?’ observed Jack.

‘In course,’ replied his lordship.  ’Dog-cart—­name behind—­Right Honourable the Earl of Scamperdale—­lad with cockade—­everything genteel’; adding, ‘by Jove, they’ll take you for me!’

Having settled all these matters, and arranged how the information was to be communicated to Jawleyford, the friends at length took their block-tin candlesticks, with their cauliflower-headed candles, and retired to bed.

CHAPTER XXV

MR. SPRAGGON’S EMBASSY TO JAWLEYFORD COURT

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When Mr. Sponge returned, all dirtied and stained, from the chase, he found his host sitting in an arm-chair over the study fire, dressing-gowned and slippered, with a pocket-handkerchief tied about his head, shamming illness, preparatory to putting off Mr. Spraggon.  To be sure, he played rather a better knife and fork at dinner than is usual with persons with that peculiar ailment; but Mr. Sponge, being very hungry, and well attended to by the fair—­moreover, not suspecting any ulterior design—­just ate and jabbered away as usual, with the exception of omitting his sick papa-in-law in the round of his observations.  So the dinner passed over.

‘Bring me a tumbler and some hot water and sugar,’ said Mr. Jawleyford, pressing his head against his hand, as Spigot, having placed some bottle ends on the table, and reduced the glare of light, was preparing to retire.  ‘Bring me some hot water and sugar,’ said he; ’and tell Harry he will have to go over to Lord Scamperdale’s, with a note, the first thing in the morning.’