‘Beg pardon, sir,’ said Mr. Plummey, ’but cook, sir, wishes to know, sir, if you dine here to-day, sir?’

‘Of course,’ replied Mr. Sponge, ‘where would you have me dine?’

’Oh, I don’t know, sir—­only Mr. Puffington, sir, is very poorly, sir, and I thought p’raps you’d be dining out.

‘Poorly is he?’ replied Mr. Sponge; ’sorry to hear that—­what’s the matter with him?’

‘Bad bilious attack, I think,’ replied Plummey—­’very subject to them, at this time of year particklarly; was laid up, at least confined to his room, three weeks last year of a similar attack.’

‘Indeed!’ replied Mr. Sponge, not relishing the information.

‘Then I must say you’ll dine here?’ said the butler.

‘Yes; I must have my dinner, of course,’ replied Mr. Sponge.  ’I’m not ill, you know.  No occasion to make a great spread for me, you know; but still I must have some victuals, you know.’

‘Certainly, sir, certainly,’ replied Mr. Plummey.

‘I couldn’t think of leaving Mr. Puffington when he’s poorly,’ observed Mr. Sponge, half to himself and half to the butler.

’Oh, master—­that’s to say, Mr. Puffington—­always does best when left alone,’ observed Mr. Plummey, catching at the sentence:  ’indeed the medical men recommend perfect quiet and moderate living as the best thing.’

‘Do they?’ replied Sponge, taking out another cigar.  Mr. Plummey then withdrew, and presently went upstairs to report progress, or rather want of progress, to the gentleman whom he sometimes condescended to call ‘master.’

Mr. Puffington had been taking another spell at the paper, and we need hardly say that the more he read of the run the less he liked it.

‘Ah, that’s Mr. Sponge’s handiwork,’ observed Plummey, as with a sneer of disgust Mr. Puffington threw the paper from him as Plummey entered the room.

‘How do you know?’ asked Mr. Puffington.

‘Saw it, sir—­saw it in the letter-bag going to the post.’

‘Indeed!’ replied Mr. Puffington.

‘Mr. Spraggon and he did it after they came in from hunting.’

‘I thought as much,’ replied Mr. Puffington, in disgust.

Mr. Plummey then related how unsuccessful had been his attempts to get rid of the now most unwelcome guest.  Mr. Puffington listened with attention, determined to get rid of him somehow or other.  Plummey was instructed to ply Sponge well with hints, all of which, however, Mr. Sponge skilfully parried.  So, at last, Mr. Puffington scrawled a miserable-looking note, explaining how very ill he was, how he regretted being deprived of Mr. Sponge’s agreeable society, but hoping that it would suit Mr. Sponge to return as soon as he was better and pay the remainder of his visit—­a pretty intelligible notice to quit, and one which even the cool Mr. Sponge was rather at a loss how to parry.