Certainly it was very annoying, for her ladyship's pearly grey Parisian glove had a broad brown smear of osmazome across it, and all due to Lord Barmouth's magpie-like trick of hiding scraps of food away for future consumption, in Indian cabinets and china jars, and then forgetting the _cache_ he had made. Mademoiselle Justine was summoned, a fresh pair of gloves obtained and put on with the maid's assistance, by which time the dog had polished the bone, and probably in his own tongue, being a well-bred animal, said a grace and blessed Lord Barmouth. Then he was once more taken up, his mouth and paws wiped by Justine on one of her ladyship's clean handkerchiefs; Tryphie nodded a good-bye to her cousin, to whom she had hardly dared to speak, and then followed her ladyship downstairs. Maude rose, trembling and in dread lest something she feared should occur, for her ladyship was later than usual in going out, and this was a Wednesday, which day was sacred to the canine post. In fact, as Maude heard the steps of the carriage rattled down with a great deal of noise--her ladyship encouraged her servants to bang them down well, for it let the neighbours know she kept a carriage and was going out--there was a pattering of feet, and as she opened the door, Joby came trotting in, with his great eyes full of animation, and the grinning smile in which he indulged a little more broad, for he had rushed in between the footman's legs nearly upsetting him as the door was opened, in his eagerness to play postman for his master. "Good dog, then!" whispered Maude, and then her heart seemed to stand still, for the carriage did not drive off, there was a rustling of silks on the stairs, and her ladyship came panting up. Maude threw herself, colouring vividly, into a _bergere_ chair, and Joby dived under the couch, not leaving so much as the point of his tail visible as her ladyship sailed into the room and looked hastily round. "Maude," she cried, "there is some mystery here. I insist on knowing what this means." There was no reply, but Tryphie came in, and darted a sympathetic glance at the poor girl, mentally wishing that Tom were at home. "I--insist upon knowing what this means." "What, mamma?" said Maude, huskily. "That dog; where is he? Mr Melton's hideous wretch. Here: dog, dog, dog!" she cried. She might have called till she was speechless, for Joby would not have moved. All the same, though, he was to be stirred, for her ladyship, now in a towering passion, set down the toy terrier upon a chair, when it immediately leaped to the carpet, barking furiously, and made a dead set at the sofa.