_Mrs. Gil._ Fiddlesticks! You've been made a fool of, GABRIEL! Can't you see for yourself that he's neither the manners nor yet the appearance of a _real_ nobleman--or anything but what he _is_? _Uncle Gab._ (_dropping_ Lord S.'s _arm_). Eh? If you're not a Lord, Sir, what else _are_ you? _Lord Strath._ (_wavering between wrath and amusement_). Afraid I can't enlighten you--I'm extremely curious to know myself. _Mrs. Tid._ (_distractedly_). Oh, Aunt, it wasn't my fault, really! MONTAGUE _would_ have him! And--and we _sent_ round to say he wouldn't be required--we did indeed! Please, _please_ don't tell anybody! _Mrs. Gil._ (_rigidly_). It is my _duty_ to let everyone here know how disgracefully we have been insulted to-night, MARIA, and might have gone away in ignorance, but for that innocent child--who has done nothing, that _I_ can see, to deserve being shaken like that! _I_'m not going to sit by in silence and see a man passed off as a Lord who is nothing more nor less than one of the assistants out of BLANKLEY'S shop, hired to come and fill a vacant seat! Yes, GABRIEL, if you doubt my word, look at MARIA--and _now_ ask that young man to dine! [_Profound sensation among the company._ _Uncle Gab._ I--ah--withdraw the invitation, of course--it is cancelled, Sir, cancelled! _Feminine Murmur._ I had a feeling, the moment he came in, as if--so thankful now I didn't commit myself by so much as--ah, my dear, it all comes from a desire to make a show!--&c., &c. _Uncle Gab._ It's the bare-faced impudence of coming here on false pretences, that _I_ can't get over. Come, Mr. SHOPWALKER, COUNTERJUMPER, or whatever you really are, what have _you_ got to say for yourself? _Lord Strath._ Say? Why---- [_He struggles to control his countenance for a moment, until he is convulsed at last by irrepressible laughter._ _All_ (_except the_ TIDMARSHES). He's laughing--positively _laughing_ at Us! The brazenness of it! _Lord Strath._ (_regaining composure_). I--I'm awfully sorry, but it struck me suddenly as so----After all, the joke is only against myself. (_To himself._) Must try and get my unfortunate hostess out of this fix--not that she deserves it! (_Aloud._) If you will kindly let me explain, I think I can---- _Mr. Tid._ (_suddenly_). Oh, hang explaining! It's all out now, and you'd better leave it there! _Lord Strath._ I can't, indeed. I must make you all understand that this well-meaning lady with the highly-developed sense of duty has done our host and hostess a grave injustice, besides paying me a compliment I don't deserve. I'm sorry to say I can't claim to be half as useful a member of the community as any of the very obliging and attentive gentlemen in Mr. BLANKLEY'S employment. If I'm anything, I'm a--an Egyptologist, in an amateur sort of way, you know. A--in fact, I'm writing a book on Ancient Egypt. _The Others._ A _literary_ man! As if _that_ made it any better!