the master of the Manor had
been offered an appointment elsewhere. Whereat the worthier spirits in
the ancient house rejoiced. Now the joy was turned into wailing and
gnashing of teeth.

"Is he a beast to us?" said John.

The freckle-faced boy answered affably, "That depends. His Imperial
Highness"--he kicked the new portmanteau hard--"will not find Mr.
Richard Rutford a beast. Far from it. And he's civil to the Demon,
because his papa is a man of many shekels. But to mere outsiders, like
myself, a beast of beasts; ay, the very king of beasts, is--Dirty Dick."

And then--oh, horrors!--the door of No. 15 opened, and Rutford
appeared, followed by a seemingly young and very fashionably dressed
lady. The boys jumped to their feet. All, except Scaife, looked
preternaturally solemn. The house-master nodded carelessly.

"This is Scaife, Duchess," he said in his thick, rasping tones.
"Scaife and Verney, let me present you to the Duchess of Trent."

He mouthed the illustrious name, as if it were a large and ripe
greengage.

The duchess advanced, smiling graciously. "These"--Rutford named the
other boys--"are Egerton, Lovell, and--er--Duff."

Scaife, alone of those present, appreciated the order in which his
schoolfellows had been named. Egerton--known as the Caterpillar--was
the son of a Guardsman; Lovell's father was a judge; Duff's father an
obscure parson.

The duchess shook hands with each boy. "Your father and I are old
friends," she said to Egerton; "and I have had the pleasure of meeting
your uncle," she smiled at John.

Duff looked unhappy and ill at ease, because it was almost certain that
his last sentence had been overheard by the house-master. The duchess
asked a few questions and then took her leave. She and her son were
dining with the Head Master. Rutford accompanied her.

"Did the blighter hear?" said Duff.

"How could he help it with his enormous asses' ears?" said the tall
thin Egerton.

Duff, an optimist, like all red-headed, freckled boys, appealed to the
others, each in turn. The verdict was unanimous.

"He hates me like poison," said Duff. "I shall catch it hot. What an
unlucky beggar I am!"

"Pooh!" said Scaife. "He knows jolly well that the whole school calls
him Dirty Dick."

But whatever hopes Duff may have entertained of his house-master's
deafness were speedily laid in the dust. Within five minutes Rutford
reappeared. He stood in the doorway, glaring.

"Just