"If I were you I should wait until the ring's clear before I put up my hands." Quorn stared in front of him in gloomy silence. "Pretty darned mess it is," he remarked presently. "It is. But it will clear up," said Peckover cheerfully. "That is if you give it time." Quorn made a sour face. "Nice position for me----" "If you will go engaging the affections of ladies from the Bush with short hair and muscular brothers," put in Peckover. "It's a mercy as it is that this other claimant cropped up. He has saved you a lot of worry." "So they're after him?" asked Quorn with grim amusement. "You bet. He had to stay in bed for a week to keep out of their way. Lalage has crossed over to be Lady Quorn, and she means business." "The devil she does!" exclaimed Quorn uneasily. "Just think," urged Peckover with telling plausibility, "what this other Quorn has saved you from. Dear old Carnaby has a rare hankering after experiments on people's physiognomies; trying how a man looks with his nose bent, his eye closed, and a tooth or two smudged out. He fitted his dooks once round my throat, and I can feel 'em there now." "What was that for?" "Just to keep his hand in. He is uncommonly keen on meeting you, and he has got a bagful of funniments ready for the occasion." "Pleasant fellow," ejaculated Quorn ruefully. "Yes," pursued Peckover, "it's providential this chap, t'other Quorn, turned up. And if you take my advice you'll let him sit where he is till the Leos have eaten their heads off at _The Pigeons_ and turned the game up." "Looks as though I'd better," Quorn agreed reluctantly. "It will be bad enough if Carnaby catches you about as it is," continued Peckover, encouraged by the success of his argument. "He may do something distinctly unpleasant, but, not being for the moment Lord Quorn, you won't have to marry old Lalage into the bargain." "That's something," murmured Quorn. "Everything, almost," said Peckover cheerfully. "If you wriggle out of that matrimonial spring-trap, you won't mind leaving half of your tail behind. You may lose a feature or two, but you'll be saved a life-time of bother." "To get quit of Lalage would be gratifying," Quorn admitted gloomily. "But with my nose sliced off----" "If," urged Peckover encouragingly, "you keep away from the looking-glass you'll never miss it." "But other people will," Quorn objected, clearly discomposed by the idea. "Well, then," Peckover summed up, "if you don't feel equal to tackling the gentle Carnaby either as Quorn or Jenkins, you had best lie low till they cart themselves away. The other Quorn won't be particular, since you saved his life, and Treacher doesn't go for a month. We'll fix you up a room in one of the lodges, and you can spend your time in keeping out of Lalage's way. Give out you are surveying the estate, which, if it should turn out to be yours, won't be trouble thrown away. I'll look after you, and back you up. You can trust me."