to it, left the door half open in coming out, and was in
time to receive Her Ladyship with smiling face as she, ushered by Mr.
Strongitharm, majestically sailed in.

CHAPTER III.

BEHIND THE SCENES.

In issuing from and leaving open the door of the inner room, Mr.
Crampton had bestowed upon Mr. Perkins a look so peculiarly arch, that
even he, simple as he was, began to imagine that some mystery was about
to be cleared up, or some mighty matter to be discussed. Presently
he heard the well-known voice of Lady Gorgon in conversation with his
uncle. What could their talk be about? Mr. Perkins was dying to know,
and--shall we say it?--advanced to the door on tiptoe and listened with
all his might.

Her Ladyship, that Juno of a woman, if she had not borrowed Venus's
girdle to render herself irresistible, at least had adopted a tender,
coaxing, wheedling, frisky tone, quite different from her ordinary
dignified style of conversation. She called Mr. Crampton a naughty man,
for neglecting his old friends, vowed that Sir George was quite hurt at
his not coming to dine--nor fixing a day when he would come--and added,
with a most engaging ogle, that she had three fine girls at home,
who would perhaps make an evening pass pleasantly, even to such a gay
bachelor as Mr. Crampton.

"Madam," said he, with much gravity, "the daughters of such a mother
must be charming; but I, who have seen your Ladyship, am, alas! proof
against even them."

Both parties here heaved tremendous sighs and affected to be wonderfully
unhappy about something.

"I wish," after a pause, said Lady Gorgon--"I wish, dear Mr. Crampton,
you would not use that odious title 'my Ladyship:' you know it always
makes me melancholy."

"Melancholy, my dear Lady Gorgon; and why?"

"Because it makes me think of another title that ought to have been
mine--ours (I speak for dear Sir George's and my darling boy's sake,
Heaven knows, not mine). What a sad disappointment it has been to my
husband, that after all his services, all the promises he has had, they
have never given him his peerage. As for me, you know--"

"For you, my dear madam, I know quite well that you care for no such
bauble as a coronet, except in so far as it may confer honour upon those
most dear to you--excellent wife and noble mother as you are. Heigho!
what a happy man is Sir George!"

Here there was another pause, and if Mr. Perkins could have seen what
was taking place behind the screen,