"Is it true? Do not evade my question," cried Titania. "I don’t see, granny, what right you have to ask ’em," said the irrepressible Bob. "I sent you a wire to say it wasn’t black, and it isn’t." "Augustin, silence that boy," said Titania. But Augustin shook his head. "Don’t you answer anything, Pen," said Bob. "No one has any right to ask you anything." He marched over to Gordon. "Don’t look so sad, Mr. Gordon." "I can’t help it, my boy," said Gordon. "It’s a horrid situation. I don’t care whether it’s adopted or not. If she’ll marry me, I’ll have her." Bob squeezed his hand. "I ain’t _absolutely_ sure it isn’t you yet," he said. "Pen hasn’t told me all, you know. By the way, Mr. Gordon, did that speculation come off?" "Not so well as I thought by ten thousand," said Gordon. "Oh, I say," said Bob, "but, after all, it doesn’t matter. I’ll make fifty or sixty thousand do." "You’re a fine boy," said Gordon. "But, Bob, I would like to strangle your grandmother." "Would you?" asked Bob, eagerly. "I dare say Pen does, too. Grandmothers and aunts are very trying. At least, I find them so." The duchess’s voice rose now quite above the limits of social decency, except when any one is playing or singing. "I will not be put off, Penelope. You will say who it is, and you will be married again by the bishop in his fine Gothic cathedral—" "Mr. Dean’s cathedral," interjected the bishop. "With a proper service and the usual hymns, breathing over Eden, or I will stay here till you do." "Steady, Titania," said Bradstock. "If she won’t, she won’t." "But she shall," shrieked Titania. "Gentlemen, which of you is it? I am now entirely desperate; which of you is it?" No one said a word. "Marquis, is it you?" asked the duchess. "You said so before." "How can I say?" asked poor Rivaulx. "She says no one must." "Quite right," said Bradstock. "Who will believe any one, Titania? Let’s have lunch and be friendly and stop this. I’m very hungry, Pen. And let’s see the baby." The duchess shivered. "I cannot and will not see it," said Titania. "For by all accounts, it is an adopted illegitimate child. If Penelope will send it back to the person she got it of, and own the truth, I will forgive her and have lunch, for I am very faint." "I want to see the baby, Pen," said Augustin, with his hand on Pen’s shoulder. "You know, Pen, they still say it’s rather dusky." Penelope was very indignant. "He’s not," she cried. "They sha’n’t say it any more. Bob, tell that girl up-stairs to bring him down." And Bob ran up-stairs like a monkey up a stick. "I decline to see it," said Titania. "A baby without a name is a terrible object to me. It is an insult to the bishop and to the Church to bring one into the room. I will retire into the open air and try to breathe again." Goby assisted her outside. "This is a calamity," said Titania. "It’s a catastrophe. What is the truth, Captain Goby? Are you a liar, too?" Goby sobbed.