CHAPTER 27
Major Tifto and the Duke
'I beg your pardon, Silverbridge,' said the Major, entering the
room, 'but I was looking for Longstaff.'
'He isn't here,' said Silverbridge, who did not wish to be
interrupted by his racing friend.
'Your father, I believe?' said Tifto. He was red in the face but
was in other respects perhaps improved in appearance by his
liquor. In his more sober moments he was not always able to assume
that appearance of equality with his companions which it was the
ambition of his soul to achieve. But a second glass of whisky-and-
water would always enable him to cock his tail and bark before the
company with all the courage of my lady's pug. 'Would you do me
the great honour to introduce me to his Grace?'
Silverbridge was not prone to turn his back upon a friend because
he was low in the world. He had begun to understand that he had
made a mistake by connecting himself with the Major, but at the
club he always defended his partner. Though he not infrequently
found himself obliged to snub the Major himself, he always
countenanced the little Master of the Hounds, and was true to his
own idea of 'standing to a fellow'.
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