e ruse, what? My asking for a female with a title was to make 'em
think I was one of the Upper Ten."

"How were you dressed?" I could not help asking.

"Oh, it was one of my frock-coat days. I'd been to see a man about
tutoring his son, and by a merciful dispensation of Providence there
was a fellow living in the same boarding-house with me who was about my
build and had a frock-coat, and he had lent it to me. At least, he
hadn't exactly lent it to me, but I knew where he kept it and he was
out at the time. There was nothing the matter with my appearance. Quite
the young duke, I assure you, laddie, down to the last button. 'Is Lady
Lichenhall at home?' I asked. 'No,' said the maid, 'nobody of that name
here. This is Lady Lakenheath's house.' So, you see, I had a bit of
luck at the start, because the names were a bit alike. Well, I got the
maid to show me in somehow, and, once in you can bet I talked for all I
was worth. Kept up a flow of conversation about being misdirected and
coming to the wrong house. Went away, and called a few days later.
Gradually wormed my way in. Called regularly. Spied on their movements,
met 'em at every theatre they went to, and bowed, and finally got away
with Millie before her aunt knew what was happening or who I was or
what I was doing or anything."

"And what's the moral?"

"Why, go in like a mighty, rushing wind! Bustle 'em! Don't give 'em a
moment's rest or time to think or anything. Why, if I'd given Millie's
Aunt Elizabeth time to think, where should we have been? Not at Combe
Regis together, I'll bet. You heard that letter, and know what she
thinks of me now, on reflection. If I'd gone slow and played a timid
waiting-game, she'd have thought that before I married Millie, instead
of afterwards. I give you my honest word, laddie, that there was a
time, towards the middle of our acquaintance--after she had stopped
mixing me up with the man who came to wind the clocks--when that woman
ate out of my hand! Twice--on two separate occasions--she actually
asked my advice about feeding her toy Pomeranian! Well, that shows you!
Bustle 'em, laddie! Bustle 'em!"

"Ukridge," I said, "you inspire me. You would inspire a caterpillar. I
will go to the professor--I was going anyhow, but now I shall go
aggressively. I will prise a father's blessing out of him, if I have to
do it with a crowbar."

"That's the way to talk, old horse. Don't beat about the bush. Tell him
exactly what you want and s