tart; two glasses of Gordon's sherry, and a cup of coffee."

"Without milk. I had it from Proctor," broke in Purvis, who was bursting
with jealousy at the accuracy of the other's narrative.

"You mean without sugar, sir," snapped Haggerstone. "Nobody does take
milk-coffee after dinner."

"I always do," rejoined Purvis, "when I can't get mara-mara-mara--"

"I hope you can get maraschino down easier than you pronounce it, sir."

"Be quiet, Scroope," said his sister; "you always interrupt."

"He do make de devil of misverstandness wit his whatye-call-'em," added
the Pole, contemptuously.

And poor Purvis, rebuked on every side, was obliged to fall back beside
Martha and her embroidery.

"My Lady," resumed Haggerstone, "is served at eleven o'clock. The moment
Granzini's solo is over in the ballet, an express is sent off to order
dinner. The table is far more costly than Midchekoff's."

"I do believe well," said the Count, who always, for nationality's sake,
deemed it proper to abuse the Russian. "De Midchekoff cook tell me he
have but ten paoli how you say par tete by the tete for his dinner; dat
to include everyting, from the caviar to de sheeze."

"That was not the style at the Pavilion formerly," roared out
Haggerstone, repeating the remark in Foglass's ear.

And the ex-consul smiled blandly towards Mrs. Ricketts, and said he 'd
take anything to England for her "with pleasure."

"He 's worse than ever," remarked Haggerstone, irritably. "When people
have a natural infirmity, they ought to confine themselves to their own
room."

"Particularly when it is one of the tem-tem-temper," said Purvis, almost
choked with passion.

"Better a hasty temper than an impracticable tongue, sir." said
Haggerstone.

"Be quiet, Scroope," added Mrs. Ricketts; and he was still. Then,
turning to the Colonel, she went on: "How thankful we ought to be that
we never knew these people! They brought letters to us, some, indeed,
from dear and valued friends. That sweet Diana Comerton, who married
the Duke of Ellewater, wrote a most pressing entreaty that I should call
upon them."

"She did n't marry the Duke; she married his chap-chaplain," chimed in
Purvis.

"Will you be quiet, Scroope?" remarked the lady.

"I ought to know," rejoined he, grown courageous in the goodness of his
cause. "He was Bob Nutty. Bitter Bob, we always called him at school. He
had a kind of a poly-poly-poly--"

"A polyanthus," suggested Haggerstone.