Lyle was seated with a French novel. "Those fellows at the
bank, led on by that creature M'Candlish, had the insolence to move
an amendment to that motion of mine about the drainage loan. I almost
thought they'd have given me a fit of apoplexy; but I crushed them: and
I told Boyd, 'If I see any more of this, I don't care from what quarter
it comes,--if these insolences be repeated,--I' ll resign the direction.
It's no use making excuses, pleading that you misunderstood this or
mistook that, Boyd,' said I. 'If it occurs again, I go.' And then, as
if this was not enough, I 've had to talk French all the way out. By the
way, where's Maitland?"

"Talk French! what do you mean by that?"

"Where's Maitland, I say?"

"He's gone off with Mark to Larne. They said they 'd not be back to
dinner."

"Here's more of it; we shall have this foreign fellow on our hands till
he comes,--this Italian Count. I found him at M'Grotty's, and brought
him back with me."

"And what is he like? is he as captivating as his portrait bespeaks?"

"He is, to my mind, as vulgar a dog as ever I met: he smoked beside me
all the road, though he saw how his vile tobacco set me a-coughing;
and he stretched his legs over the front seat of the carriage, where, I
promise you, his boots have left their impress on the silk lining; and
he poked his cane at Crattle's wig, and made some impertinent remark
which I could n't catch. I never was very enthusiastic about foreigners,
and the present specimen has not made a convert of me."

"Maitland likes him," said she, languidly.

"Well, then, it is an excellent reason not to like Maitland. There's the
second bell already. By the way, this Count, I suppose, takes you in to
dinner?"

"I suppose so, and it is very unpleasant, for I am out of the habit
of talking French. I 'll make Alice sit on the other side of him and
entertain him."

The news that the distinguished Italian friend of Mr. Norman Maitland
had arrived created a sort of sensation in the house; and as the guests
dropped into the drawing-room before dinner, there was no other topic
than the Count. The door at last opened for his _entree_; and he came
in unannounced, the servant being probably unable to catch the name he
gave. In the absence of her father and mother, Mrs. Trafford did the
honors, and received him most courteously, presenting the other guests
to him, or him to them, as it might be. When it came to the turn of the
Commodore, he start