Amelia’s condescension quite turned Jack’s head; and when he went upstairs to dress, he squinted at his lordship’s best clothes, all neatly laid out for him on the bed, with inward satisfaction at having brought them.

‘Dash me!’ said he, ‘I really think that girl has a fancy for me.’  Then he examined himself minutely in the glass, brushed his whiskers up into a curve on his cheeks, the curves almost corresponding with the curve of his spectacles above; then he gave his bristly, porcupine-shaped head a backward rub with a sort of thing like a scrubbing-brush.  ’If I’d only had the silver specs,’ thought he, ‘I should have done.’

He then began to dress; an operation that, ever and anon was interrupted by the outburst of volleys of smoke from the little spluttering, smouldering fire in the little shabby room Jawleyford insisted on having him put into.

Jack tried all things—­opening the window and shutting the door, shutting the window and opening the door; but finding that, instead of curing it, he only produced the different degrees of comparison—­bad, worse, worst—­he at length shut both, and applied himself vigorously to dressing.  He soon got into his stockings and pumps, also his black Saxony trousers; then came a fine black laced fringe cravat, and the damson-coloured velvet waistcoat with the cut-steel buttons.

‘Dash me, but I look pretty well in this!’ said he, eyeing first one side and then the other as he buttoned it.  He then stuck a chased and figured fine gold brooch, with two pendant tassel-drops, set with turquoise and agates, that he had abstracted from his lordship’s dressing-case, into his, or rather his lordship’s finely worked shirt-front, and crowned the toilet with his lordship’s best new blue coat with velvet collar, silk facings, and the Flat Hat Hunt button—­’a striding fox,’ with the letters ‘F.H.H.’ below.

‘Who shall say Mr. Spraggon’s not a gentleman?’ said he, as he perfumed one of his lordship’s fine coronetted cambric handkerchiefs with lavender-water.  Scent, in Jack’s opinion, was one of the criterions of a gentleman.

Somehow Jack felt quite differently towards the house of Jawleyford; and though he did not expect much pleasure in Mr. Sponge’s company, he thought, nevertheless, that the ladies and he—­Amelia and he at least—­would get on very well.  Forgetting that he had come to eject Sponge on the score of insufficiency, he really began to think he might be a very desirable match for one of them himself.

‘The Spraggons are a most respectable family,’ said he, eyeing himself in the glass.  ‘If not very handsome, at all events, very genteel,’ added he, speaking of himself in particular.  So saying, he adorned himself with his spectacles and set off to explore his way downstairs.  After divers mistakes he at length found himself in the drawing-room, where the rest of the party being assembled, they presently proceeded to dinner.