and waved his hand to her in a manner that clearly conveyed to her that she was expected to do as he had done.
“My master's compliments and he's gone into the wine trade, and would you accept a sample?”
After all, Mr Gay's exertions had failed to convey his exact meaning to the deaf old lady.
“You astonish me,” said Sir Caractacus; then, finding that she did not understand him, he rumpled his hair, opened his mouth, strained his eye-balls, and threw himself into an attitude of the most horror-struck amazement. Having made his state of mind quite clear to her, he smiled pleasantly, and nodded to her to proceed.
“If you'll kindly taste it, sir, I'll take back any orders with which you may favour me.”
Sir Caractacus rang for a wineglass and proceeded to taste the sample.
“I don't know what it is, but it's not Amontillado,” said he, smacking his lips; “still it is a pleasant cordial. Taste it.”
The old lady seemed to gather his meaning at once. She nodded, bobbed a curtsey, and emptied the glass.
Baylis and Culpepper had not over-stated the singular effects of the “Patent Oxy-Hydrogen Love-at-First-Sight Draught.” Sir Caractacus's hard and firmly-set features gradually relaxed as the old lady sipped the contents of her glass. Zorah set it down when she had quite emptied it, and as she did so her eyes met those of the good old Baronet. She blushed under the ardour of his gaze, and a tear trembled on her old eyelid.
