al
marriage,--any of these would find me ready and prepared, but with the
diplomacy of dividends, I own myself little acquainted. You must come
with me." Cutbill bowed in acquiescence, and was silent.

CHAPTER VII. AT LUNCHEON

As the family at the great house were gathered together at luncheon on
the day after the events we have just recorded, Lord Culduff's answer to
Temple Bramleigh's note was fully and freely discussed.

"Of course," said Jack, "I speak under correction; but how comes it
that your high and mighty friend brings another man with him? Is Cutbill
an attache? Is he one of what you call 'the line'?"

"I am happy to contribute the correction you ask for," said Temple,
haughtily. "Mr. Cutbill is not a member of the diplomatic body, and
though such a name might not impossibly be found in the Navy list, you
'll scarcely chance upon it at F. O."

"My chief question is, however, still to be answered. On what pretext
does he bring him here?" said Jack, with unbroken good humor.

"As to that," broke in Augustus, "Lord Culduff's note is perfectly
explanatory; he says his friend is travelling with him; they came here
on a matter of business, and, in fact, there would be an awkwardness on
his part in separating from him, and on ours, if we did not prevent such
a contingency."

"Quite so," chimed in Temple. "Nothing could be more guarded or
courteous than Lord Culduff's reply. It was n't in the least like
an Admiralty minute, Jack, or an order to Commander Spiggins, of the
'Snarler,' to take in five hundred firkins of pork."

"I might say, now, that you 'll not find that name in the Navy list,
Temple," said the sailor, laughing.

"Do they arrive to-day?" asked Marion, not a little uncomfortable at
this exchange of tart things.

"To dinner," said Temple.

"I suppose we have seen the last leg of mutton we are to meet with till
he goes," cried Jack: "that precious French fellow will now give his
genius full play, and we 'll have to dine off 'salmis' and 'supremes,'
or make our dinner off bread-and-cheese."

"Perhaps you would initiate Bertond into the mystery of a sea-pie,
Jack," said Temple, with a smile.

"And a precious mess the fellow would make of it! He'd fill it
with cocks' combs and mushrooms, and stick two skewers in it with a
half-boiled truffle on each--lucky if there would n't be a British flag
in spun sugar between them; and he 'd call the abomination 'pate a la
gun-room,' or some suc