"How can I say?" he asked. "You know I can’t." He looked out into the park. "Here’s some one coming in a motor," he cried. They all ran to the windows. But just then Bob and the nurse came down with the infant, who, though evidently awed by the number of creatures he saw about him, behaved like a gentleman, and not in the least like an adopted child. "I congratulate you, Pen," said Bradstock. "The mother must be a devilish pretty woman! Does she miss it much, Pen? Oh, Pen, what a queer, mad darling you are! I begin to see daylight." But nobody else did. Penelope blushed and hugged the baby tenderly, while Bob danced around her in the wildest state of excitement. "I say, Captain Goby, come and look at it! Mr. de Vere! I say, marquis! Ain’t it a ripper, and as fat as a pup, and hardly a squeal out of it day or night! Granny dear, won’t you look at it?" "No, no," said Titania. "I cannot, cannot bring myself to do so!" "You’ll soon be jolly sorry, I can tell you," cried the loving grandson. "I’ll bet you’ll be sorry." He ran to Pen. "I say, Pen, give the kid to me, or you’ll drop it." "Drop him!" exclaimed Penelope. "Oh, Bob, is it likely?" "Very likely," said Bob, "if you knew that I sent a telegram to some one just as soon as we got here!" Pen flushed scarlet. But not with anger. "Oh, Bob!" "I did! You ain’t angry?" "Oh, Bob!" "I don’t care," said Bob, as he took the child. "I don’t care a hang. I’m ruined with all these jossers now. De Vere will never buy any more dogs of me. I say, who’s that?" A motor-car stopped outside the great hall door, and a gentleman in black got out. He came up the steps rapidly, and stopped dead when he found all the world in front of him. "I thought so," said Bradstock. "Now the catalogue is complete." "Lord Bramber!" cried the others. Penelope stood in the centre of the great hall as if she were turned to marble. But no marble ever had so sweet a colour. [Illustration: THE EARL OF PULBOROUGH. Clever; but indolent] "I believe it is now the Earl of Pulborough," said Bradstock, gravely, to the newcomer. "Yes," he replied. "Penelope, you sent for me?" Pen fell upon his neck before them all and did not deny it. And, as they stood still in great amazement, Bob danced the baby up and down till that young gentleman made up his mind to roar as soon as he got his breath. "This—this is Lord Bramber," howled Bob, triumphantly. "Now admit you feel sorry you spoke, granny!" He gave the baby to the nurse, and grabbed Goby by the arm. "I say, I’m awfully sorry, but it isn’t my fault, Captain Goby, and Ethel Mytton is a very nice girl, and dead in love with you." "Is she?" sighed Goby. "Mr. de Vere, I’ve got a bulldog—" "Damn bulldogs!" said De Vere. Bob seized Gordon. "Do you feel very bad, Mr. Gordon?" he asked, sympathetically. "I almost wish it had been you." "It can’t be helped," said Gordon, gloomily. "I never had a chance. Come and see me in the city next week, Bob."