FISHING 63 



" Beau " Bloxham will be remembered as one 

 of the last survivals of those spacious days when 

 members of the peerage were still regarded with 

 respect by an admiring populace. He was always 

 exquisitely groomed (as the lady novelists say) 

 and dressed in a picturesque, if somewhat old- 

 world, fashion. To see him strolling down to 

 the House of Lords at four o'clock of an after- 

 noon, to record his vote against the last legisla- 

 tive measure that had been passed by the House 

 of Commons, exuding seals at every fob, with 

 his shiny hat cocked saucily over one ear, was in 

 itself a liberal sartorial education. It was Lord 

 Bloxham' s invariable habit to carry his latch- 

 key in his right-hand trouser-pocket, on a long 

 gold chain, the end of which was securely 

 fastened to one of the buttons to which his 

 braces were attached, and to this custom he owed 

 his untimely decease. 



One afternoon last summer, at about half-past 

 four, when his parliamentary duties had been 

 punctiliously performed. Lord Bloxham re- 

 turned home and proceeded in his usual leisurely 

 fashion to insert his latch-key into the front- 

 door of Bloxham House, Grosvenor Square. By 

 some unfortunate coincidence, for which Provi- 

 dence can alone be held responsible, Mrs. 

 Grindelbaum, who had been paying an after- 

 noon call upon Lady Bloxham, happened at this 



