he know we are waiting dinner?"

"I'll tell him," and Colonel Bramleigh walked forward from his place
before the fire. "I'm afraid, my Lord, the cold air of our hills has not
given you an appetite?"

"Quite the contrary, I assure you. I am very hungry."

"By Jove, and so are we!" blurted out Jack; "and it's striking eight
this instant."

"What is your dinner-hour?"

"It ought to be seven," answered Jack.

"Why, Cutbill, you told me nine."

Cutbill muttered something below his breath, and turned away; and Lord
Culduff laughingly said, "I declare I don't perceive the connection.
My friend, Colonel Bramleigh, opines that a French cook always means
nine-o'clock dinner. I 'm horrified at this delay: let us make a hasty
toilette, and repair our fault at once."

"Let me show you where you are lodged," said Temple, not sorry to
escape from the drawing-room at a moment when his friend's character and
claims were likely to be sharply criticised.

"Cutty's a vulgar dog," said Jack, as they left the room. "But I 'll be
shot if he's not the best of the two."

A haughty toss of Marion's head showed that she was no concurring party
to the sentiment.

"I 'm amazed to see so young a man," said Colonel Bramleigh. "In look at
least, he is n't forty."

"It's all make-up," cried Jack.

"He can't be a great deal under seventy, taking the list of his
services. He was at Vienna as private secretary to Lord Borchester--"
As Augustus pronounced the words Lord Culduff entered the room in a
fragrance of perfume and a brilliancy of color that was quite effective;
for he wore his red ribbon, and his blue coat was lined with white silk,
and his cheeks glowed with a bloom that youth itself could not rival.

"Who talks of old Borchester?" said he, gayly. "My father used to tell
me such stories of him. They sent him over to Hanover once, to report on
the available Princesses to marry the Prince: and, egad! he played his
part so well that one of them--Princess Helena I think it was--fell in
love with him; and if it was 't that he had been married already,--May
I offer my arm?" And the rest of the story was probably told as he led
Miss Bramleigh in to dinner.

Mr. Cutbill only arrived as they took their places, and slunk into
a seat beside Jack, whom, of all the company, he judged would be the
person he could feel most at ease with.

"What a fop!" whispered Jack, with a glance at the peer.

"Is n't he an old humbug?" muttered Cutbill