"Can you remember, sir, the brand of champagne
which I was then drinking, and which I declared, if you
recollect, was the one which best agreed with me, the one brand
worth drinking?"
"I am afraid I don't remember that," Tavernake confessed.
"Restaurant life is a thing I know so little of, and I have only
drunk champagne once or twice in my life."
"Dear, dear me!" the professor exclaimed. "You do astonish me,
sir. Well, that brand was Veuve Clicquot, and you may take my
word for it, Mr. Tavernake, and you may find this knowledge
useful to you when you have made a fortune in America and have
become a man of pleasure; there is no wine equal to it. Veuve
Clicquot, sir, if possible of the year 1899, though the year 1900
is quite drinkable."
"Veuve Clicquot," Tavernake repeated. "I'll remember it for this
evening."
The professor beamed.
"My dear," he said to Beatrice, "Mr. Tavernake will think that I
had a purpose in testing his memory."
Beatrice smiled.
"And hadn't you, father?" she asked.
They all laughed together.
"Well, it is pleasant," the professor admitted, "to have one's
weaknesses ministered to, especially when one is getting on in
life," he added, with a ponderous sigh. "Never mind, we will
think only of pleasant subjects this evening. It will be quite
interesting, Mr. Tavernake, to hear you order the supper."
"I sha'n't attempt it," Tavernake answered. "I shall pass it on
to you."
"This reminds me," the professor declared, "of the old days.
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