his own servant to his own house.

"Her ladyship's not at home, I tell ye", said the man, apparently
resenting the freedom with which this stranger proceeded into the
hall, while he placed his own massive person in the way; "and if you
want to see my lord, you just can't--_that_ I know!"

"Why?" asked his master, beginning to suspect how the land lay, and
considerably amused.

"Because his lordship's particularly engaged. He's having his 'air
cut just now, and the dentist's waiting to see him after he's
done", returned this imaginative retainer, arguing indeed from his
pertinacity that the visitor must be one of the swell mob, therefore
to be kept out at any cost.

"And who are _you_?" said his lordship, now laughing outright.

"Who am I?" repeated the man. "I'm his lordship's footman. Now, then,
who are _you_? That's more like it!"

"I'm Lord Bearwarden himself", replied his master.

"Lord Bearwarden! O! I dare say", was the unexpected rejoinder. "Well,
that _is_ a good one. Come, young man, none of these games here:
there's a policeman round the corner."

At this juncture the fortunate arrival of the gentleman with
lately-curled whiskers, in search of his _Bell's Life_, left on the
hall-table, produced an _eclaircissement_ much to the unbeliever's
confusion, and the master of the house was permitted to ascend his own
staircase without further obstruction.

Meeting "Gentleman Jim" coming down with a bundle, it did not strike
him as the least extraordinary that his wife should have denied
herself to other visitors. Slight as was his experience of women and
their ways, he had yet learned to respect those various rites that
constitute the mystery of shopping, appreciating the composure and
undisturbed attention indispensable to a satisfactory performance of
that ceremony.

But it _did_ trouble him to observe on Lady Bearwarden's face traces
of recent emotion, even, he thought, to tears. She turned quickly
aside when he came into the room, busying herself with the blinds and
muslin window-curtains; but he had a quick eye, and his perceptions
were sharpened besides by an affection he was too proud to admit,
while racked with cruel misgivings that it might not be returned.

"Gentleman-like man _that_, I met just now on the stairs!" he began,
good-humouredly enough, though in a certain cold, conventional tone,
that Maud knew too well, and hated accordingly. "Dancing partner,
swell mob, smuggler, respectable tra