In Which Mr. Walker Makes Three Attempts To Ascertain The Dwelling Of
The day after the dinner at the "Regent Club," Mr. Walker stepped over to the
shop of his friend the perfumer, where, as usual, the young man, Mr. Mossrose,
was established in the front premises.
For some reason or other, the Captain was particularly good-humoured; and,
quite forgetful of the words which had passed between him and Mr. Eglantine's
lieutenant the day before, began addressing the latter with extreme cordiality.
"A good morning to you, Mr. Mossrose," said Captain Walker. "Why, sir, you look
as fresh as your namesake--you do, indeed, now, Mossrose."
"You look ash yellow ash a guinea," responded Mr. Mossrose, sulkily. He thought
the Captain was hoaxing him.
"My good sir," replies the other, nothing cast down, "I drank rather too freely last
"The more beast you!" said Mr. Mossrose.
"Thank you, Mossrose; the same to you," answered the Captain.
"If you call me a beast, I'll punch your head off!" answered the young man, who
had much skill in the art which many of his brethren practise.
"I didn't, my fine fellow," replied Walker. "On the contrary, you-- "
"Do you mean to give me the lie?" broke out the indignant Mossrose, who hated
the agent fiercely, and did not in the least care to conceal his hate.
In fact, it was his fixed purpose to pick a quarrel with Walker, and to drive him, if
possible, from Mr. Eglantine's shop. "Do you mean to give me the lie, I say, Mr.
"For Heaven's sake, Amos, hold your tongue!" exclaimed the Captain, to whom
the name of Hooker was as poison; but at this moment a customer stepping in,
Mr. Amos exchanged his ferocious aspect for a bland grin, and Mr. Walker
walked into the studio.
When in Mr. Eglantine's presence, Walker, too, was all smiles in a minute, sank
down on a settee, held out his hand to the perfumer, and began confidentially
discoursing with him.
"SUCH a dinner, Tiny my boy," said he; "such prime fellows to eat it, too!
Billingsgate, Vauxhall, Cinqbars, Buff of the Blues, and half-a-dozen more of the
best fellows in town. And what do you think the dinner cost a head? I'll wager
you'll never guess."
"Was it two guineas a head?--In course I mean without wine," said the genteel
"Well, was it ten guineas a head? I'll guess any sum you please," replied Mr.
Eglantine: "for I know that when you NOBS are together, you don't spare your
money. I myself, at the "Star and Garter" at Richmond, once paid--"