_Seakale._ Mr. and Mrs. BODFISH! Miss FLINDERS! Mr. POFFLEY! _Mr. Bodf._ (_after salutations._) Mrs. BODFISH and myself have just been the victims of a most extraordinary mistake! We positively walked straight into your next-door neighbour's house, and if we had not been undeceived by a mummy on the first landing, I don't know where we should have found ourselves next. _Mrs. Tid._ _A mummy!_ How _very_ disagreeable; such a _peculiar_ thing to have about a house? But we really know nothing about the people next door. We have never encouraged any intimacy. We thought it best. _Mrs. Bodf._ I told their man-servant as we came away that I considered he had behaved disgracefully in not telling us our mistake at once; no doubt he had a motive; people _are_ so unprincipled! _Little Gwendolen_ (_drawing_ Miss SEATON _into a corner_). Oh, Miss SEATON, what _do_ you think? Mother's going to let you dine downstairs with them--won't _that_ be nice for you? At least, she's going to, if somebody comes, and you're to go down with him. He isn't like a _regular_ dinner-guest, you know. Papa hired him from BLANKLEY'S this morning, and Mother and he both hope he mayn't come, after all; but _I_ hope he _will_, because I want to see what he's like. Don't _you_ hope he'll come? _Don't_ you, Miss SEATON, dear? [Illustration: WRITING THE QUEEN'S SPEECH.] _Miss Seaton_ (_to herself_). Then _that_ was why! And I can't even refuse! (_Aloud._) My dear GWENNIE, you shouldn't tell me all these things--they're secrets, and I'm sure your Mother would be very angry indeed if she heard you mention them to _anybody_! _Gwen._ Oh, it was only to you, Miss SEATON, and you're _nobody_, you know! And I _can_ keep a secret, if I choose. I never told how JANE used to----[Miss SEATON _endeavours to check these disclosures_. _Uncle Gab._ (_out of temper, on the hearth-rug_). Seven minutes past the hour, MONTY--and, if there's a thing I'm particular about, it's not being kept waiting for my dinner. Are you expecting somebody else? or what _is_ it? _Mr. Tid._ (_nervously_). Well, I half thought--but we won't wait any longer for him--he is not worth it--ha! there he is--I think I heard the front door--so perhaps I may as well give him----eh? _Uncle Gab._ Just as you like--_my_ dinner's spoilt as it is. (_Catching sight of the banner-screen._) What have you stuck this precious affair up for, eh? _Mr. Tid._ To--to keep the fire off. MARIA'S idea. Uncle--she thought our--hem--crest and motto would look rather well made up like this. _Uncle Gab._ (_with a snort_). Made up! I should think it was! Though what you want to make yourself out one of those good-for-nothing aristocrats for is beyond me. You know _my_ sentiments about 'em--I'm a thorough-going Radical, and the very sound of a title---- _Seakale_ (_with a fine combination of awe and incredulity_). Lord STRATHSPORRAN!