"Will not the fair Rose take compassion on me, then?" asked Viscount Overton. "Who but the Rose should introduce one to the gardener?"
"Roses are not found on the stalk in the winter, my good lord," replied General Tracy for his niece, who, he saw, was somewhat annoyed. "But I will be your introducer, if needful, though, according to the phrase of old playwrights and novelists, a gentleman of _your figure_ carries his own introduction with him."
"General, you are too good," replied the other, with an air of mingled self-satisfaction and persiflage. "But really that was an excellent jest of yours--I must remember it--Roses are not found _on the stalk_ in the winter! Capital! Do you make many jests?"
"When I have fair subjects," answered Walter Tracy, with perfect good humour. "But let us go, Viscount, if you are disposed. We shall find Mr. Acton in the garden at this time. It is a pity you are not an Irishman; for he is the best hand at managing a bull I ever saw."
As they went, the story of the adventure with Farmer Thorpe's wild beast was related, much to the delight of Lord Overton, who was a man of a good deal of courage and spirit, though overlaid with an affectation of effeminacy; and by the time it was done, they were by the side of Chandos. General Tracy informed the head-gardener who the noble lord was, and jestingly launched out into an encomium of his taste for and knowledge of gardening.
"I can assure you, Mr. Acton," said Lord Overton, in a tone of far too marked condescension, "that, though the General makes a jest of it, I am exceedingly fond of gardening, and both can and do take a spade or rake in hand as well as any man."
"I am glad to hear it, my lord," replied Chandos, who did not love either his look or his manner; "our nobility must always be the better for some manly employments."
The Viscount was a little piqued, for there certainly was somewhat of a sneer in the tone; and he replied, "But I hear that you, my good friend, occasionally vary your labours with more graceful occupations--studying Latin and Greek, and reading the poets, thinking, I suppose, 'Ingenuas didicisse fideliter, artes, emollit mores, nec sinit esse feros.' I dare say you know where the passage is."