"'Cos if it is, jist you step into him with that 'ere card, and say Mr. Veller's a waitin', will you?" said Sam. And saying it, he very coolly walked into the hall, and sat down.
The powdered-headed footman slammed the door very hard, and scowled very grandly; but both the slam and the scowl were lost upon Sam, who was regarding a mahogany umbrella stand with every outward token of critical approval.
Apparently, his master's reception of the card had impressed the powdered-headed footman in Sam's favour, for when he came back from delivering it, he smiled in a friendly manner, and said that the answer would be ready directly.
"Werry good," said Sam. "Tell the old gen'lm'n not to put himself in a perspiration. No hurry, six-foot. I've had my dinner."
"You dine early, sir," said the powdered-headed footman.
"I find I gets on better at supper when I does," replied Sam.
"Have you been long in Bath, sir?" inquired the powdered-headed footman. "I have not had the pleasure of hearing of you before."
"I haven't created any wery surprisin' sensation here, as yet," rejoined Sam, "for me and the other fash'nables only come last night."
"Nice place, sir," said the powdered-headed footman.
"Seems so," observed Sam.
"Pleasant society, sir," remarked the powdered-headed footman. "Very agreeable servants, sir."
"I should think they wos," replied Sam. "Affable, unaffected, say-nothin'-to-nobody sort o' fellers."
"Oh, very much so, indeed, sir," said the powdered-headed footman, taking Sam's remark as a high compliment. "Very much so indeed. Do you do anything in this way, sir?" inquired the tall footman, producing a small snuff-box with a fox's head on the top of it.
"Not without sneezing," replied Sam.
"Why, it is difficult, sir, I confess," said the tall footman.
