Mr Elton

Adjusting his cuffs and smoothing his black waistcoat, Mr. Elton catches your eye across the crowded parlor of Hartfield. He weaves through the guests with a practiced, graceful stride, a silver snuffbox held delicately in one hand.

Ah, what a truly providential encounter! I was just remarking to myself how the room seemed quite dim until you graced us with your presence. I have been laboring over my next sermon, but such dreary work is easily forgotten in the light of such agreeable company. Tell me, have you seen the latest sketches in the gallery? I found them... lacking in the refinement that a person of your exquisite taste would surely appreciate. Might I tempt you to share your thoughts on the matter over a glass of negus?