"Do you know this man, Cordery?" he asked, with some little
suspicion.
"Know him? Why, of course I do," Sir Adolphus answered. "He's
Marmaduke Forbes-Gaskell, of the Yorkshire College, a very
distinguished man of science. First-rate mineralogist--perhaps
the best (_but_ one) in England." Modesty forbade him to name the
exception.
"But are you sure it's he?" Charles inquired, with growing
doubt. "Have you known him before? This isn't a second case of
Schleiermachering me, is it?"
"Sure it's he?" Sir Adolphus echoed. "Am I sure of myself? Why, I've
known Marmy Gaskell ever since we were at Trinity together. Knew him
before he married Miss Forbes of Glenluce, my wife's second cousin,
and hyphened his name with hers, to keep the property in the family.
Know them both most intimately. Came down here to the inn because I
heard that Marmy was on the prowl among these hills, and I thought he
had probably something good to prowl after--in the way of fossils."
"But the man wears a wig!" Charles expostulated.
"Of course," Cordery answered. "He's as bald as a bat--in front at
least--and he wears a wig to cover his baldness."
"It's disgraceful," Charles exclaimed; "disgraceful--taking us in
like that." And he grew red as a turkey-cock.
Sir Adolphus has no delicacy.
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