ewhat of a bon-vivant, and a man who thoroughly understood
dinner-parties; and with much good nature he took Frank under his
special protection.

"You stick to me, Mr Gresham," he said, "when we go into the
dining-room. I'm an old hand at the duke's dinners, and know how to
make a friend comfortable as well as myself."

"But why doesn't the duke come in?" demanded Frank.

"He'll be here as soon as dinner is ready," said Mr Athill. "Or,
rather, the dinner will be ready as soon as he is here. I don't care,
therefore, how soon he comes."

Frank did not understand this, but he had nothing to do but to wait
and see how things went.

He was beginning to be impatient, for the room was now nearly full,
and it seemed evident that no other guests were coming; when suddenly
a bell rang, and a gong was sounded, and at the same instant a door
that had not yet been used flew open, and a very plainly dressed,
plain, tall man entered the room. Frank at once knew that he was at
last in the presence of the Duke of Omnium.

But his grace, late as he was in commencing the duties as host,
seemed in no hurry to make up for lost time. He quietly stood on the
rug, with his back to the empty grate, and spoke one or two words in
a very low voice to one or two gentlemen who stood nearest to him.
The crowd, in the meanwhile, became suddenly silent. Frank, when he
found that the duke did not come and speak to him, felt that he ought
to go and speak to the duke; but no one else did so, and when he
whispered his surprise to Mr Athill, that gentleman told him that
this was the duke's practice on all such occasions.

"Fothergill," said the duke--and it was the only word he had yet
spoken out loud--"I believe we are ready for dinner." Now Mr
Fothergill was the duke's land-agent, and he it was who had greeted
Frank and his friends at their entrance.

Immediately the gong was again sounded, and another door leading out
of the drawing-room into the dining-room was opened. The duke led the
way, and then the guests followed. "Stick close to me, Mr Gresham,"
said Athill, "we'll get about the middle of the table, where we shall
be cosy--and on the other side of the room, out of this dreadful
draught--I know the place well, Mr Gresham; stick to me."

Mr Athill, who was a pleasant, chatty companion, had hardly seated
himself, and was talking to Frank as quickly as he could, when Mr
Fothergill, who sat at the bottom of the table, asked him to say
grac