'Gad!' said Sir George, standing and looking round. 'And where is she,
Tommy?'</p>'That old name! What a pleasure it is to hear it!' cried the tutor,
affecting to touch his eyes with the corner of a dainty handkerchief; as
if the gratification he mentioned were too much for his feelings.
'But, seriously, Tommy, where is she?' Soane persisted, still looking
round with a grin.
'My dear Sir George! My honoured friend! But you would always have your
joke.'</p>'And, plainly, Tommy, is all this frippery yours?'
'Tut, tut!' Mr. Thomasson remonstrated. 'And no man with a finer taste.
I have heard Mr. Walpole say that with a little training no man would
excel Sir George Soane as a connoisseur. An exquisite eye! A nice
discrimination! A--'
'Now, Tommy, to how many people have you said that?' Sir George
retorted, dropping into a chair, and coolly staring about him. 'But,
there, have done, and tell me about yourself. Who is the last sprig of
nobility you have been training in the way it should grow?'
'The last pupil who honoured me,' the Reverend Frederick answered, 'as
you are so kind as to ask after my poor concerns, Sir George, was my
Lord E----'s son. We went to Paris, Marseilles, Genoa, Florence; visited
the mighty monuments of Rome, and came home by way of Venice, Milan, and
Turin. I treasure the copy of Tintoretto which you see there, and these
bronzes, as memorials of my lord's munificence. I brought them back
with me.'
'And what did my lord's son bring back?' Sir George asked, cruelly. 'A
Midianitish woman?'
'My honoured friend!' Mr. Thomasson remonstrated. 'But your wit was
always mordant--mordant! Too keen for us poor folk!'
'D'ye remember the inn at Cologne, Tommy?' Sir George continued,
mischievously reminiscent. 'And Lord Tony arriving with his charmer? And
you giving up your room to her? And the trick we played you at Calais,
where we passed the little French dancer on you for Madame la Marquise
de Personne?' Mr. Thomasson winced, and a tinge of colour rose in his fat pale face.
'Boys, boys!' he said, with an airy gesture. 'You had an uncommon fancy
even then, Sir George, though you were but a year from school! Ah, those
were charming days! Great days!'
'And nights!' said Sir George, lying back in his chair and looking at
the other with eyes half shut, and insolence half veiled. 'Do you
remember the faro bank at Florence, Tommy, and the three hundred livres
you lost to that old harridan, Lady Harrington? Pearls cast before swine
you styled them, I remember.'</p>'Lord, Sir George!'