‘And that you think would be sufficient?’ asked Puff, adding—­’If one does the thing at all, you know, it’s as well to do it handsomely.’

‘True,’ replied Jack, sticking out his great thick lips, ’true.  I’m a great advocate for doing things handsomely.  Many a row I have with my lord for thanking fellows, and saying he’ll remember them instead of giving them sixpence or a shilling; but really I should say, if you were to give him forty or fifty pund—­say a fifty—­pund note, he’d be—­’

The rest of the sentence was lost by the appearance of Mr. Sponge, cantering up the avenue on the conspicuous piebald.  Mr. Puffington and Mr. Spraggon greeted him as he alighted at the door.

Sponge was quickly followed by Tom Washball; then came Charley Slapp and Lumpleg, and Captain Guano came in a gig.  Mutual bows and bobs and shakes of the hand being exchanged, amid offers of ‘anything before dinner’ from the host, the guests were at length shown to their respective apartments, from which in due time they emerged, looking like so many bridegrooms.

First came the worthy master of the hounds himself, in his scarlet dress-coat, lined with white satin; Tom Washball, and Charley Slapp also sported Puff’s uniform; while Captain Guano, who was proud of his leg, sported the uniform of the Muffington Hunt—­a pea-green coat lined with yellow, and a yellow collar, white shorts with gold garters, and black silk stockings.

Spraggon had been obliged to put up with Lord Scamperdale’s second best coat, his lordship having taken the best one himself; but it was passable enough by candle light, and the seediness of the blue cloth was relieved by a velvet collar and a new set of the Flat Hat Hunt buttons.  Mr. Sponge wore a plain scarlet with a crimson velvet collar, and a bright fox on the frosted ground of a gilt button, with tights as before; and when Mr. Crane arrived he was found to be attired in a dress composed partly of Mr. Puffington’s and partly of the Muggeridge Hunt uniform—­the red coat of the former surmounting the white shorts and black stockings of the other.  Altogether, however, they were uncommonly smart, and it is to be hoped that they appreciated each other.

The dinner was sumptuous.  Puff, of course, was in the chair; and Captain Guano coming last into the room, and being very fond of office, was vice.  When men run to the ‘noble science’ of gastronomy, they generally outstrip the ladies in the art of dinner-giving, for they admit of no makeweight, or merely ornamental dishes, but concentrate the cook’s energies on sterling and approved dishes.  Everything men set on is meant to be eaten.  Above all, men are not too fine to have the plate-warmer in the room, the deficiency of hot plates proving fatal to many a fine feast.  It was evident that Puff prided himself on his table.  His linen was the finest and whitest, his glass the most elegant and transparent, his plate the brightest, and his wines the most costly and recherche.  Like many people, however, who are not much in the habit of dinner-giving, he was anxious and fussy, too intent upon making people comfortable to allow of their being so, and too anxious to get victuals and drink down their throats to allow of their enjoying either.