On his part Mr. Stanham regarded Sir Tristram with a supercilious air which, perhaps unconsciously to himself, was only too frequently seen upon his face--as if Sir Tristram were an inferior thing. "I'd no idea that your name was Triggs." The Duke, standing behind Sir Tristram, clenched his fists, and glared at Mr. Stanham as if he would like to have knocked him down. It happened, shortly afterwards, that Miss Cullen left her bedroom to come downstairs. As she went along the corridor she met a gentleman who was being conducted by a servant, probably to his own apartment. The gentleman was Sir Tristram Triggs. When Sir Tristram saw Miss Cullen, and Miss Cullen saw Sir Tristram, they both of them stopped short. The great man's complexion was, normally, of a ruddy hue. At sight of the lady he turned the colour of a beetroot, boiled. She drew herself up to the full capacity of her inches. And she uttered a single monosyllable. "You!" That was all she said--then went sweeping on. "That horrid man!--He here!--To think of it!--If I'd only known that he was coming I do believe, in spite of Tommy, that I'd have stayed away." At the foot of the stairs Miss Cullen encountered Mr. Stanham. That gentleman had, as he was wont to have, his hands in his pockets. Also, as he was not wont to have, he had a face as long as his arm. "I say, Frank, old man, isn't there somewhere where I can have a word or two with you on the strict Q.T.?" "Certainly--the library. There's never a soul in there." One would not like to libel Tuttenham so far as to say, with Miss Cullen, that the only tenants the library ever had were the books. But, on that occasion, it did chance that the pair had the whole place to themselves. Mr. Stanham perched himself on a corner of the table, still with his hands in his pockets. "There's going to be a pretty kettle of fish, dear boy." That was what the gentleman observed. "My dear child, what do you mean? What is the matter?" "The Lord Chancellor's here." "No!--How do you know?" "Datchet just introduced me to him." "Oh, Tommy, I say, what fun!" With a little laugh the lady clapped her hands. She appeared to be gifted with a keener eye for comedy than Mr. Stanham. "I don't know what you call fun. It happens that the new Lord Chancellor is a man who, I have good reason to believe, would give a tidy trifle for a chance of getting his knife into me." "Whatever for?"