"Well, you gammoned me into going to Hurlingham with your pet poodle." "My pet poodle!" exclaimed her ladyship. "Bah! yes, your pet baronet; but never any more. Hang him, he came there dressed up like a theatrical super, in grey velvet, and with a soft hat and a rosette. I felt so mad that I could have punched his head, for all the fellows there were sniggering. But you should have seen him shoot." "Sir Grantley told me that he was a very good shot," said her ladyship. "Oh, he did, did he?" roared Tom. "Bless his modesty. Well, I'm going to tell Maude that when she's married she had better look out, and if ever she sees her lovely husband take up a gun she had better bolt--out of town--the seaside--or come home. She won't be safe if she don't." Lord Barmouth tittered at this, but his lady looked round at him so sharply, that he turned it off, and stared stolidly straight before him. "It was a regular case of fireworks," continued Tom. "His attitudes were grand, and he looked as if he were rehearsing something for a circus. You should have seen the fellows laugh." "I sincerely hope that you did not laugh," said her ladyship, sternly. "Oh, dear, no," said Tom, "not at all. Didn't even smile." "I'm very glad of it," said her ladyship. "Oh, you are? That's right," said Tom; "but somehow one of the buttons flew off the front of my coat, and my ribs ached, and I lay back in a chair in a state of convulsion. I nearly had a fit." "Diphoos!" ejaculated her ladyship. "And when dear Grantley came up he gnashed his teeth at me. He did, 'pon my word, till I roared again. I say, gov'nor, it's the funniest thing out to see him in a passion." "It seems to me," exclaimed her ladyship, hysterically, "as if the whole of my family were leagued against me, and determined to try and break off this match. From what I can gather, it seems to me, Tom, that you have grossly insulted Sir Grantley." "Bosh!" said Tom. "He made such an ass of himself that I roared with laughter, and served him right." "Fresh insults," cried her ladyship; "but I can wait. At present, as I before observed, I shall take no steps to check this domestic mutiny on the part of my husband and my son." "Mutiny?" "Yes, sir, I said mutiny; but after Maude is married--then!" The door closed behind her, and Lord Barmouth looked piteously up at his little son. "You have got me into a devil of a scrape, Tom, my boy," he faltered. "Never mind, gov'nor. Tip that up. The old girl left us this." "But--but it _is_ champagne, Tom." "All the better, gov'nor. Here's to you." Lord Barmouth hesitated for a few moments, and then raised his glass. "Your health, my dear boy," he said.--"Yes, that's a very nice glass of wine. I haven't tasted champagne for a couple of months." "Then you shall taste it again," said Tom. "Now, I mean to go it. Gov'nor, you should come and dine with me to-night, and we'd try and forget all about old Maude, only I have no money."