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Sponge--'a devilish good fellow. I
was just telling Mrs. Jogglebury--wasn't I, Mrs. Jogglebury?--what an
excellent fellow you are, and how kind you'd been about the horses and
corn, and all that sort of thing, when it occurred to me that it mightn't
be convenient, p'raps to put up a servant; but your wife assures me that it
will; so that settles the matter, you know--that settles the matter and
I'll now send for the horses forthwith.'
Jog was utterly disconcerted, and didn't know which way to turn for an
excuse. Mrs. Jogglebury, though she would rather have been without the
establishment, did not like to peril Gustavus James's prospects by
appearing displeased; so she smilingly said she would see and do what they
could.
Mr. Sponge then procured a messenger to take a note to Hanby House, for Mr.
Leather, and having written it, amused himself for a time with his cigars
and his _Mogg_ in his bedroom, and then turned out to see the stable got
ready, and pick up any information about the hounds, or anything else, from
anybody he could lay hold of.


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