tailor, and the Countess must
not set us down as a nation of shopkeepers: philosophically tolerant.'

The Countess started, and ran a little broken 'Oh!' affably out of her
throat, dipped her lips to her tablenapkin, and resumed her smile.

'Yes,' pursued her ladyship; 'old Mel stamps the age gone by. The gallant
adventurer tied to his shop! Alternate footman and marquis, out of
intermediate tailor! Isn't there something fine in his buffoon imitation
of the real thing? I feel already that old Mel belongs to me. Where is
the great man buried? Where have they, set the funeral brass that holds
his mighty ashes?'

Lady Jocelyn's humour was fully entered into by the men. The women smiled
vacantly, and had a common thought that it was ill-bred of her to hold
forth in that way at table, and unfeminine of any woman to speak
continuously anywhere.

'Oh, come!' cried Mr. George, who saw his own subject snapped away from
him by sheer cleverness; 'old Mel wasn't only a buffoon, my lady, you
know. Old Mel had his qualities. He was as much a "no-nonsense" fellow,
in his way, as a magistrate, or a minister.'

'Or a king, or a constable,' Aunt Bel helped his illustration.

'Or a prince, a poll-parrot, a Perigord-pie,' added Drummond, whose
gravity did not prevent Mr. George from seeing that he was laughed at.

'Well, then, now, listen to this,' said Mr. George, leaning his two hands
on the table resolutely. Dessert was laid, and, with a full glass beside
him, and a pear to peel, he determined to be heard.

The Countess's eyes went mentally up to the vindictive heavens. She stole
a glance at Caroline, and was alarmed at her excessive pallor. Providence
had rescued Evan from this!

'Now, I know this to be true,' Mr. George began. 'When old Mel was alive,
he and I had plenty of sparring, and that--but he's dead, and I'll do him
justice. I spoke of Burley Bennet just now. Now, my lady, old Burley was,
I think, Mel's half-brother, and he came, I know, somewhere out of Drury
Lane-one of the courts near the theatre--I don't know much of London.
However, old Mel wouldn't have that. Nothing less than being born in St.
James's Square would content old Mel, and he must have a Marquis for his
father. I needn't be more particular. Before ladies--ahem! But Burley was
the shrewd hand of the two. Oh-h-h! such a card! He knew the way to get
into company without false pretences. Well, I told you, he had lots more
than L100,000--some said two--