"Then you don't consider yourself a gentleman now?" said one.
"Oh, no. I'm only trying to become a gentleman," meekly replied Tom, though a close observer could see a slight twitching in the corner of his mouth, and a slight twinkle in the corner of his eye. "My honour is in pawn, and will remain so until I pay these bills. Then I shall feel like holding up my head again, and looking gentlemen in the face."
The oddness of this conceit, and the boldness with which it was carried out, attracted attention, and made a good deal of talk at the time. A great many tailors' bills were paid instanter that would not have been paid for months, perhaps not at all. In a few days, however, Tom appeared abroad again, quite as handsomely dressed as before, alleging that his uncle had taken compassion on him, and, out of admiration for his honest principles, paid off his bills and made a gentleman of him once more.
No one, of course believed Tom to be sincere in all this. It was looked upon as one of his waggish tricks, intended to hit off some one, or perhaps the whole class of fine tailor-made gentlemen who forget their benefactors.
While Tom was metamorphosed as stated, Briarly was waited upon one day, by a young man, who presented him with a challenge to mortal combat from the insulted L--, and desired him to name his friend.
"I cannot accept the challenge," said Briarly, promptly.
"Why not?" asked the second of L--, in surprise.
"Because your principal is no gentleman."
"Is no gentleman," coolly returned Briarly.
"He doesn't pay his tailor, he doesn't pay his boot-maker, he doesn't pay his hatter--he is, therefore, no gentleman, and I cannot fight him."
"You will be posted as a coward," said the second, fiercely.
"In return for which I will post him as no gentleman, and give the evidence," replied Briarly.
"I will take his place. You will hear from me shortly," said the second, turning away.
"Be sure you don't owe your tailor any thing, for if you do, I will not stoop to accept your challenge," returned Briarly. "I will consider it _primâ facie_ evidence that you are no gentleman. I know Patterson very well, and will, in the mean time, inform myself on the subject."
All this was said with the utmost gravity, and with a decision of tone and manner that left no doubt of the intention.