Still there was everything very smart; Spigot in full fig, with a shirt frill nearly tickling his nose, an acre of white waistcoat, and glorious calves swelling within his gauze-silk stockings.

The improvised footman went creaking about, as such gentlemen generally do.
The style was perhaps better than the repast: still they had turtle-soup (Shell and Tortoise, to be sure, but still turtle-soup); while the wines were supplied by the well-known firm of 'Wintle & Co.' Jawleyford sank where he got it, and pretended that it had been 'ages' in his cellar: 'he really had such a stock that he thought he should never get through it'-- to wit, two dozen old port at 36_s._ a dozen, and one dozen at 48_s._; two dozen pale sherry at 36_s._, and one dozen brown ditto at 48_s._; three bottles of Bucellas, of the 'finest quality imported,' at 38_s._ a dozen; Lisbon 'rich and dry,' at 32_s._; and some marvellous creaming champagne at 48_s._, in which they were indulging when he made the declaration: 'don't wait of me, my dear Mr.Sponge!' exclaimed Jawleyford, holding up a long needle-case of a glass with the Jawleyford crests emblazoned about; 'don't wait of me, pray,' repeated he, as Spigot finished dribbling the froth into Sponge's glass; and Jawleyford, with a flourishing bow and waive of his empty needle-case, drank Mr.Sponge's very good health, adding, 'I'm _extremely_ happy to see you at Jawleyford Court.' It was then Jawleyford's turn to have a little froth; and having sucked it up with the air of a man drinking nectar, he set down his glass with a shake of the head, saying: 'There's no such wine as that to be got now-a-days.' 'Capital wine!--Excellent!' exclaimed Sponge, who was a better judge of ale than of champagne.

'Pray, where might you get it ?' 'Impossible to say!--Impossible to say!' replied Jawleyford, throwing up his hands with a shake, and shrugging his shoulders.

'I have such a stock of wine as is really quite ridiculous.' '_Quite_ ridiculous,' thought Spigot, who, by the aid of a false key, had been through the cellar.
Except the 'Shell and Tortoise' and 'Wintle,' the estate supplied the repast.

The carp was out of the home-pond; the tench, or whatever it was, was out of the mill-pond; the mutton was from the farm; the carrot-and-turnip-and-beet-bedaubed stewed beef was from ditto; while the garden supplied the vegetables that luxuriated in the massive silver side-dishes.