"Mr. Spooner!" said Lady Chiltern to that gentleman,
who was the last to enter the room. "This is a marvel!" He was
dressed in a dark-blue frock-coat, with a coloured silk handkerchief
round his neck, and had brushed his hair down close to his head. He
looked quite unlike himself, and would hardly have been known by
those who had never seen him out of the hunting field. In his dress
clothes of an evening, or in his shooting coat, he was still himself.
But in the garb he wore on the present occasion he was quite unlike
Spooner of Spoon Hall, whose only pride in regard to clothes had
hitherto been that he possessed more pairs of breeches than any
other man in the county. It was ascertained afterwards, when
the circumstances came to be investigated, that he had sent
a man all the way across to Spoon Hall for that coat and the
coloured neck-handkerchief on the previous day; and some one, most
maliciously, told the story abroad. Lady Chiltern, however, always
declared that her secrecy on the matter had always been inviolable.
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