Dawdley always smoked in his room--I had not smoked for four months and
eleven days.

*****

When Lord Dawdley came into the study, he did not make any remarks; and
oh, how easy my heart felt! He was dressed in his green and boots, after
Westall's picture, correctly.

"It's time to be off, George," said he; "they told me you were dressed
long ago. Come up, my man, and get ready."

I rushed up into the dressing-room, and madly dashed my head and arms
into a pool of eau-de-Cologne. I drank, I believe, a tumberful of it. I
called for my clothes, and, strange to say, they were gone. My servant
brought them, however, saying that he had put them away--making some
stupid excuse. I put them on, not heeding them much, for I was half
tipsy with the excitement of the ci-- of the smo-- of what had taken
place in Dawdley's study, and with the Maraschino and the eau-de-Cologue
I had drunk.

"What a fine odor of lavender-water!" said Dawdley, as we rode in the
carriage.

I put my head out of the window and shrieked out a laugh; but made no
other reply.

"What's the joke, George?" said Dawdley. "Did I say anything witty?"

"No," cried I, yelling still more wildly; "nothing more witty than