her Maule nor the servant could
answer the question. Mr. Spooner was a man who never missed a day
from the beginning of cubbing to the end of the season, and who,
when April came, could give you an account of the death of every fox
killed. Chiltern cracked his eggs, and said nothing more for the
moment, but Gerard Maule had his suspicions. "He must be coming,"
said Maule; "suppose you send up to him." The servant was sent, and
came down with Mr. Spooner's compliments. Mr. Spooner didn't mean
to hunt to-day. He had something of a headache. He would see Lord
Chiltern at the meet on Monday.

Maule immediately declared that neither would he hunt; but Lord
Chiltern looked at him, and he hesitated. "I don't care about your
knowing," said Gerard.

"Oh,--I know. Don't you be an ass."

"I don't see why I should give him an opportunity."

"You're to go and pull your boots and breeches off because he has not
put his on, and everybody is to be told of it! Why shouldn't he have
an opportunity, as you call it? If the opportunity can do him any
good, you may afford to be very indifferent."

"It's a piece of d---- impertinence," said Maule, with most unusual
energy.

"Do you finish your breakfast, and come and get into the trap. We've
twenty miles to go. You can ask Spooner on Monday how he spent his
morning."

At ten o'clock the ladies came down to breakfast, and the whole party
were assembled. "Mr. Spooner!" said Lady Chiltern to that gentleman,
who was the last to enter the room. "This is a marvel!" He was
dressed in a dark-blue frock-coat, with a coloured silk handkerchief
round his neck, and had brushed his hair down close to his head. He
looked quite unlike himself, and would hardly have been known by
those who had never seen him out of the hunting field. In his dress
clothes of an evening, or in his shooting coat, he was still himself.
But in the garb he wore on the present occasion he was quite unlike
Spooner of Spoon Hall, whose only pride in regard to clothes had
hitherto been that he possessed more pairs of breeches than any
other man in the county. It was ascertained afterwards, when
the circumstances came to be investigated, that he had sent
a man all the way across to Spoon Hall for that coat and the
coloured neck-handkerchief on the previous day; and some one, most
maliciously, told the story abroad. Lady Chiltern, however, always
declared that her secrecy on the matter had always been inviolable.

"Yes, Lady