Jawleyford was taken aback. He had not calculated upon so much coolness.

'Well,' stammered he, 'that might do, to be sure; but--if--I'm not quite
sure that I could take any one--'

'But if you're as thick as you say, you can have no difficulty,' replied
our friend.

'True,' replied Jawleyford; 'but then we go a large party ourselves--two
and two's four,' said he, 'to say nothing of servants; besides, his
lordship mayn't have room--house will most likely be full.'

'Oh, a single man can always be put up; shake-down--anything does for him,'
replied Sponge. 'But you would lose your hunting,' replied Jawleyford.
'Barkington Tower is quite out of Lord Scamperdale's country.'

'That doesn't matter,' replied Sponge, adding, 'I don't think I'll trouble
his lordship much more. These Flat Hat gentlemen are not over and above
civil, in my opinion.'

'Well,' replied Jawleyford, nettled at this thwarting of his attempt,
'that's for your consideration. However, as you've come, I'll talk to Mrs.
Jawleyford, and see if we can get off the Barkington expedition.'

'But don't get off on my account,' replied Sponge. 'I can stay here quite
well. I dare say you'll not be away long.'

This was worse still; it held out no hope of getting rid of him. Jawleyford
therefore resolved to try and smoke and starve him out. When our friend
went to dress, he found his old apartment, the state-room, put away, the
heavy brocade curtains brown-hollanded, the jugs turned upside down, the
bed stripped of its clothes and the looking-glass laid a-top of it.

The smirking housemaid, who was just rolling the fire-irons up in the
hearth-rug, greeted him with a 'Please, sir, we've shifted you into the
brown room, east,' leading the way to the condemned cell that 'Jack' had
occupied, where a newly lit fire was puffing out dense clouds of brown
smoke, obscuring even the gilt letters on the back of _Mogg's Cab Fares_,
as the little volume lay on the toilet-table.

'What's happened now?' asked our friend of the maid, putting his arm round
her waist, and giving her a hearty squeeze. 'What's happened now, that
you've put me into this dog-hole?' asked he.

'Oh! I don't know,' replied she, laughing; 'I s'pose they're afraid you'll
bring the old rotten curtains down in the other room with smokin'. Master's
a sad old wife,' added she.

A great change had come over everything. The fare, the lights, the footmen,
the everything, underwent grievous diminution. Th