equal, but I could not feel flattered to find my Admirable
Crichton in plush breeches. The more I thought of it the more wonderful
it appeared. When I got over the first shock my brain began to steady
itself. I was sure of two things: first and foremost, that the footman
was the man I had travelled with; secondly, that the man I had
travelled with was a gentleman; but how to reconcile the two facts I did
not know.

When I went down into the drawing-room I found a large party assembled
for dinner: a number of men, mostly young, standing about in groups.
These were some neighbours whom Sir Alexander had invited to shoot and
dine. Lady Sutherland, Mysie, and myself were the only ladies.

After a painful indecision upstairs I had come to the conclusion that I
must in some way acknowledge the existence of my travelling companion.
After our friendly intercourse yesterday it would be snobbish to pretend
I had never seen him before. And yet I was in agony to know how to do
it. Young, shy, staying for the first time in a large country house,
among people higher than myself in the social scale, it was not
agreeable to flaunt an acquaintance with one of the men-servants. Still,
it had to be done, if only for the sake of my own self-respect.

And this was the man before whom I had blushed for poor Aunt Maria
yesterday! Only yesterday? It seemed a week ago!

So as I walked in to dinner on Sir Alexander's arm and passed close to
my footman, I gave him a slight--a very slight--inclination of the head,
it could hardly be called a bow.

I devoutly hoped nobody behind detected it, but I could see it was not
lost upon my footman. He was equal to the occasion. The only
acknowledgment he made was to put a still more respectful deference into
the curve of his respectful, deferential back. I breathed more freely as
I sat down in my place on Sir Alexander's right.

[Illustration: "'ARE ALL YOUR FOOTMEN CALLED PETER?' I ASKED."]

We were eleven to dinner, and a little discussion ensued as to who
should sit near my friend Mysie. I noticed a good deal of man[oe]uvring
on the part of a dark, middle-aged man to sit there. Mysie saw it too,
and seemed pleased when he succeeded. As he drew in his chair to the
table he gave her a glance which spoke volumes. I was quite excited. I
wondered if anyone else had noticed it. I was certain there was
something between those two.

This was the only interest I had. My host was absorbed in the carving