‘Diggle, Diggle, I know the name. To be sure. Get my tea from Diggle’s. Devilish good tea too--no connection, major, eh?’
At which Major Cavendish-Diggle inwardly shuddered, although he replied promptly enough.
‘Come and taste our champagne at Triggertown, Mr. Burkinshaw; it’s far better than the best tea in the world.’ Whereby the inconvenient question was for the moment satisfactorily shelved.
Diggle knew, therefore, that much circumspection would be necessary if he aspired to Letitia’s hand. All he could hope to gain was the girl’s good-will and co-operation, and this, by his assiduous, although diplomatically veiled attentions, he secured in due course.
Meanwhile he sought and entirely succeeded in making himself agreeable to all in the house. He talked ‘central fire’ with Sir Rupert, parochial business and district visiting with Lady Farrington, who pretended to play the Dorcas in the parish; he discussed turnips and quarter sessions with the squires and local magnates, who thought that such matters comprised the whole duty of man; last of all, he played duets and danced with Miss Farrington after dinner, in a way she called, and really felt to be divine.
‘It does not bore you to dance?’ she asked him one evening.
‘And with _you_? No, indeed, and really I am passionately devoted to it.’
‘Some men now-a-days are so fine. They stand about the doors at a dance like farm servants at a fair waiting to be hired.’
‘That’s not the way with the Duke’s Own,’ said Diggle, laughing. ‘No idlers are allowed when we give a ball. You should see our youngsters dance; and we have a string band on purpose for dance music.’
‘Delightful! Do give us a ball, Major Diggle.’
‘With all my heart; when you like. You shall fix the day, and it shall be the finest Triggertown has ever seen.’
The subject was re-opened another day, when Diggle was not by.
‘Does it rest with him?’ incredulous Sir Rupert asked of Ernest. ‘What does your colonel say?’
‘Oh, Colonel Prioleau’s “not in it” compared to Major Cavendish. We always call him Major Cavendish, he likes it better. The Major’s the leading man in the regiment. He does just as he pleases. There’s nobody like him.’
And Ernest went off into pæans of praise, expatiating upon Diggle’s innumerable good qualities with all the eloquence (it was not much) he could command.