‘Would he pay?’ asked Sponge, who, keeping as he said, ‘no books,’ was not inclined to do business on ‘tick.’

‘Don’t know,’ replied Jack, squinting at half-cock; ’don’t know—­would depend a good deal, I should say, upon how it was done.  It’s a deuced unhandsome world this.  If one wins a trifle of a youngster at cards, let it be ever so openly done, it’s sure to say one’s cheated him, just because one happens to be a little older, as if age had anything to do with making the cards come right.’

‘It’s an ungenerous world,’ observed Sponge, ’and it’s no use being abused for nothing.  What sort of a genius is Pacey?  Is he inclined to go the pace?’

‘Oh, quite,’ replied Jack; ’his great desire is to be thought a sportsman.’

‘A sportsman or a sporting man?’ asked Sponge.

‘W-h-o-y!  I should say p’raps a sportin’ man more than the sportsman,’ replied Jack.  ‘He’s a great lumberin’ lad, buttons his great stomach into a Newmarket cutaway, and carries a betting-book in his breast pocket.’

‘Oh, he’s a bettor, is he!’ exclaimed Sponge, brightening up.

‘He’s a raw poult of a chap,’ replied Jack; ’just ready for anything—­in a small way, at least—­a chap that’s always offering two to one in half-crowns.  He’ll have money, though, and can’t be far off age.  His father was a great spectacle-maker.  You have heard of Pacey’s spectacles?’

‘Can’t say as how I have,’ replied Sponge, adding, ’they are more in your line than mine.’

The further consideration of the youth was interrupted by the entrance of a footman with hot water, who announced that dinner would be ready in half an hour.

‘Who’s there coming?’ asked Jack.

’Don’t know ‘xactly, sir,’ replied the man; ’believe much the same party as yesterday, with the addition of Mr. Pacey; Mr. Miller, of Newton; Mr. Fogo, of Bellevue; Mr. Brown, of the Hill; and some others whose names I forget.’

‘Is Major Screw coming?’ asked Sponge.

’I rayther think not, sir.  I think I heard Mr. Plummey, the butler, say he declined.’

‘So much the better,’ growled Jack, throwing off his purple-lapped coat in commencement of his toilette.  As the two dressed they discussed the point how Pacey might be done.

When our friends got downstairs it was evident there was a great spread.  Two red-plushed footmen stood on guard in the entrance, helping the arrivers out of their wraps, while a buzz of conversation sounded through the partially opened drawing-room door, as Mr. Plummey stood, handle in hand, to announce the names of the guests.  Our friends, having the entree, of course passed in as at home, and mingled with the comers and stayers.  Guest after guest quickly followed, almost all making the same observation, namely, that it was a fine day for the time of year, and then each sidled off, rubbing his hands, to the fire.  Captain Guano monopolized about one-half of it, like a Colossus of Rhodes, with a coat-lap under each arm.  He seemed to think that, being a stayer, he had more right to the fire than the mere diners.