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480 THE ADVENTURES OF PHILIP
I need not say he thinks he has perfectly succeeded in adopting
the air of a man of the world. He went off to Lady Hixie and
talked with her about the last great party at which he had met
her ; and then he turned to the host, and remarked that my friend,
the Doctor's son, was a fierce-looking fellow. In five minutes he
had the good fortune to make himself hated by Mr. Firmin. He
walks through the world patronising his betters. " Our good friend
is not much used to giving dinners,"—isn't he? I say, what do
you mean by continuing to endure this man ? Tom Page, of the
Bread-and-Butter Office, is a well-known diner-out; Lord Egham
is a peer. Bickerton, in a pretty loud voice, talked to one or other
of these during dinner and across the table. He sat next to Mrs.
Mugford, but he turned his back on that bewildered woman, and
never condescended to address a word to her personally. "Of
course, I understand you, my dear fellow," he said to me when, on
the retreat of the ladies, we approached within whispering distance.
" You have these people at dinner for reasons of state. You have
a book coming out, and want to have it noticed in the paper. I
make a point of keeping these people at a distance—the only way
of dealing with them, I give you my word."
Not one offensive word had Philip said to the chief writer of
the Pall Mall Gazette ; and I began to congratulate myself that
our dinner would pass without any mishap, when some one unluckily
happening to praise the wine, a fresh supply was ordered. " Very
good claret. Who is your wine-merchant ? Upon my word, I get
better claret here than I do in Paris—don't you think so, Mr.
Fermor ? Where do you generally dine at Paris ?"
"I generally dine for thirty sous, and three francs on grand
days, Mr. Beckerton," growls Philip.
" My name is Bickerton." (" What a vulgar thing for a fellow
to talk about his thirty-sous dinners !" murmured my neighbour to
me.) "Well, there is no accounting for tastes! When I go to
Paris, I dine at the ' T-rois Frères.' Give me the Burgundy at the
'Trois Frères.'"
" That is because you great leader-writers are paid better than
poor correspondents. I shall be delighted to be able to dine better."
And with this Mr. Firmin smiles at Mr. Mugford, his master and
owner.
"Nothing so vulgar as talking shop," says Bickerton, rather loud.
"I am not ashamed of the shop I keep. Are you of yours,
Mr. Bickerton ?" growls Philip.
" F. had him there," says Mr. Mugford.
Mr. Bickerton got up from table, turning quite pale. " Do you
mean to be offensive, sir ?" he asked.