And now, poor old Hazelmere was undergoing a process of renovation such as it had not experienced since the occasion of a Royal visit some twenty years before: not a room in the house where one could feel perfectly safe, save the library: washing, scrubbing, polishing and oiling in anticipation of a rousing week-end House Party in honour of this wonderful, chameleon-like, Lady Rosemary's first visit; when her engagement with Harry would be formally announced to the inquisitive, fashionable world of which she was a spoiled child. Why all this fuss over a matter which concerned only two individuals, I could not understand. Had I been going to marry the Lady Rosemary,--which, Heaven forbid,--I should have whipped her quietly away to some little, country parsonage, to the registrar of a small country town; or to some village blacksmith, and so got the business over, out of hand. But, of course, I had neither the inclination, nor the intention, let alone the opportunity, of putting to the test what I should do in regard to marrying her, nor were my tastes in any way akin to those of my most elegant, elder brother, Viscount Harry, Captain of the Guards,--egad,--for which two blessings I was indeed truly thankful. As I was thus ruminating, the library door opened and my noble sire came in, spick and span as he always was, and happier looking than usual. "'Morning, George," he greeted. "Good morning, dad." He rubbed his hands together. "Gad, youngster! (I was twenty-four) everything is going like clockwork. The house is all in order; supplies on hand to stock an hotel; all London falling over itself in its eagerness to get here. Harry will arrive this afternoon and Lady Rosemary to-morrow." I raised my eyebrows, nodded disinterestedly and started in again to my reading. Father walked the carpet excitedly, then he stopped and looked down at me. "You don't seem particularly enthusiastic over it, George. Nothing ever does interest you but boxing bouts, wrestling matches, golf and books. Why don't you brace up and get into the swim? Why don't you take the place that belongs to you among the young fellows of your own station?" "God forbid!" I answered fervently. "Not jealous of Harry, are you? Not smitten at the very sound of the lady's name,--like the young bloods, and the old ones, too, in the city?" "God forbid!" I replied again. "Hang it all, can't you say anything more than that?" he asked testily. "Oh, yes! dad,--lots," I answered, closing my book and keeping my finger at the place. "For one thing--I have never met this Lady Rosemary Granton; never even seen her picture--and, to tell you the truth, from what I have heard of her, I have no immediate desire to make the lady's acquaintance." There was silence for a moment, and from my father's heavy breathing I could gather that his temper was ruffling.