Rutley was perceptibly uneasy under Sam's steady stare and suddenly assumed a pose of freezing haughtiness, deliberately and with studied ceremony adjusted the monocle to his eye and fixed a stony stare at Sam. Then he turned to Hazel, the very apotheosis of stilted grace and, offering her his arm, said in his most suave and gracious manner: "I shall be deeply sensible of the honor of your company for a stroll on the lawn." For a moment the girl hesitated, as though undecided between courtesy due her hostess and friendliness to My Lord. Observing the embarrassed expression of Mrs. Harris caused by Sam's rudeness, she chose to accept Rutley's arm, remarking, "It is so very beautiful this morning that I love to be out in the soft sunshine." Then through the room they passed--passed Mrs. Harris, to whom Rutley bent his head, passed Sam, who might as well have been in the Antipodes, for all Rutley seemed to see of him, though he looked directly at him, through him, and beyond him, out into the sunshine, with a triumphant smile playing about the corners of his mouth. "Oh, Sam! you have humiliated me beyond anything I could ever dream of," said Mrs. Harris, whose pain and bewilderment was plainly evident. "Aunty!" and Sam stooped and gently kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry my rudeness got the best of me. I did not mean to offend or pain you; but I shall never apologize to that fellow. Never! Never!" His earnestness was so intense, so unlike his usual self, that his aunt abruptly arose from the chair and in a startled voice said, "Dear me! Why, what do you know, Sam?" "Why!"--and Sam's face broke into a broad smile, his usual buoyant spirit asserting itself--"why, bless your dear soul, aunty, he's a villain!" "Lord Beauchamp a villain!" she exclaimed, horrified, and she straightened up in offended dignity. "Sam, permit me to declare you shock me with your irreverence." "Well, he gave me the jolt"---- "Not another word!" and she held up her warning finger. "I perceive it my duty, a duty unhappily too long deferred, to instruct you in the art of proper form, especially when in the presence of the nobility," and so saying, she swept down the room with all the stately majesty of a grand dame. At the mantle she turned and continued, "The case being important, I shall read you a lesson on deportment by--by, dear me! I have forgotten the author's name. But that is immaterial. I shall get the book from the library. Don't leave the room," and so saying she entered the library, to his great relief. Sam was in a very serious frame of mind. The night's work had developed tragic possibilities, and anything of a lugubrious nature interposing in his trend of thought was dismissed at once.