Jawleyford, too, who was more hospitable at a distance, and in imagination than in reality, had had about enough of our friend.  Indeed, a man whose talk was of hunting, and his reading Mogg was not likely to have much in common with a gentleman of taste and elegance, as our friend set up to be.  The delicate inquiry that Mrs. Jawleyford now made, as to ’whether he knew Mr. Sponge to be a man of fortune,’ set him off at a tangent.

’ME know he’s a man of fortune! I know nothing of his fortune.  You asked him here, not ME,’ exclaimed Jawleyford, stamping furiously.

‘No, my dear,’ replied Mrs. Jawleyford mildly; ’he asked himself, you know; but I thought, perhaps, you might have said something that—­’

‘ME say anything!’ interrupted Jawleyford. ’I never said anything—­at least, nothing that any man with a particle of sense would think anything of,’ continued he, remembering the scene in the billiard-room.  ’It’s one thing to tell a man, if he comes your way, you’ll be glad to see him, and another to ask him to come bag and baggage, as this impudent Mr. Sponge has done,’ added he.

‘Certainly,’ replied Mrs. Jawleyford, who saw where the shoe was pinching her bear.

‘I wish he was off,’ observed Jawleyford, after a pause.  ’He bothers me excessively—­I’ll try and get rid of him by saying we are going from home.’

‘Where can you say we are going to?’ asked Mrs. Jawleyford.

‘Oh, anywhere,’ replied Jawleyford; ’he doesn’t know the people about here:  the Tewkesbury’s, the Woolerton’s, the Brown’s—­anybody.’

Before they had got any definite plan of proceeding arranged, Mr. Sponge returned from the chase.  ‘Ah, my dear sir!’ exclaimed Jawleyford, half-gaily, half-moodily, extending a couple of fingers as Sponge entered his study:  ‘we thought you had taken French leave of us, and were off.’

Mr. Sponge asked if his groom had not delivered his note.

‘No,’ replied Jawleyford boldly, though he had it in his pocket; ’at least, not that I’ve seen.  Mrs. Jawleyford, perhaps, may have got it,’ added he.

‘Indeed!’ exclaimed Sponge; ‘it was very idle of him.’  He then proceeded to detail to Jawleyford what the reader already knows, how he had lost his day at Larkhall Hill, and had tried to make up for it by going to the cross-roads.  ‘Ah!’ exclaimed Jawleyford, when he was done; ’that’s a pity—­great pity—­monstrous pity—­never knew anything so unlucky in my life.’

‘Misfortunes will happen,’ replied Sponge, in a tone of unconcern.

‘Ah, it wasn’t so much the loss of the hunt I was thinking of,’ replied Jawleyford, ’as the arrangements we have made in consequence of thinking you were gone.’

‘What are they?’ asked Sponge.

’Why, my Lord Barker, a great friend of ours—­known him from a boy—­just like brothers, in short—­sent over this morning to ask us all there—­shooting party, charades, that sort of thing—­and we accepted.’