‘I’ll leave a note on my writing-table when I go to bed,’ observed Jawleyford to Spigot, as the latter was retiring after depositing the bottle; ’and tell Harry to start with it early in the morning, so as to get to Woodmansterne about breakfast—­nine o’clock, or so, at latest,’ added he.

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Spigot, withdrawing with an air.

Sponge then wanted to narrate the adventures of the day; but, independently of Jawleyford’s natural indifference for hunting, he was too much out of humour at being done out of his wine to lend a willing ear; and after sundry ‘hums,’ ‘indeeds,’ ‘sos,’ &c., Sponge thought he might as well think the run over to himself as trouble to put it into words, whereupon a long silence ensued, interrupted only by the tinkling of Jawleyford’s spoon against his glass, and the bumps of the decanter as Sponge helped himself to his wine.

At length Jawleyford, having had as much negus as he wanted, excused himself from further attendence, under the plea of increasing illness, and retired to his study to concoct his letter to Jack.

At first he was puzzled how to address him.  If he had been Jack Spraggon, living in old Mother Nipcheese’s lodgings at Starfield, as he was when Lord Scamperdale took him by the hand, he would have addressed him as ’Dear Sir,’ or perhaps in the third person, ’Mr. Jawleyford presents his compliments to Mr. Spraggon,’ &c.; but, as my lord’s right-hand man, Jack carried a certain weight, and commanded a certain influence, that he would never have acquired of himself.

Jawleyford spoilt three sheets of cream-laid satin-wove note-paper (crested and ciphered) before he pleased himself with a beginning.  First he had it ‘Dear Sir,’ which he thought looked too stiff; then he had it ’My dear Sir,’ which he thought looked too loving; next he had it ‘Dear Spraggon,’ which he considered as too familiar; and then he tried ‘Dear Mr. Spraggon,’ which he thought would do.  Thus he wrote: 

    ’DEAR MR. SPRAGGON,—­

’I am sorry to be obliged to put you off; but since I came in from hunting I have been attacked with influenza, which will incapacitate me from the enjoyment of society at least for two or three days.  I therefore think the kindest thing I can do is to write to put you off; and, in the hopes of seeing both you and my lord at no distant day.

    ’I remain, dear sir, yours sincerely,

    ’CHARLES JAMES JAWLEYFORD,

    ’Jawleyford Court.

    ’TO JOHN SPRAGGON, ESQ.,

    &c. &c. &c.’