“I wish to leave this year and not next, if ’tis all the same to you!”

“Yes, sir. I didn’t know you was in a hurry, sir.”

There was no reply to this. My lord advanced into the room and cast one glance at his scattered baggage and another all round him.

“Where is my riding dress?”

Jim shivered in his luckless shoes.

“I⁠—er⁠—’tis packed, sir. Do ye want it?”

“Of course I want it! Do you suppose that I am going to ride in what I have on?”

“I rather thought ye were driving, your honour.”

“I am not. The scarlet suit at once, please.”

He flung himself down in a chair before his dressing-table and picked up a nail-file.