On the eve of that day on which the conversation in the last chapter occurred, Mr Cutbill arrived at Castello. He came full of town news. He brought with him the latest scandals of society, and the last events in politics; he could tell of what was doing in Downing Street, and what was about to be done in the City. In fact, he had the sort of budget that was sure to amuse a country audience; and yet, to his astonishment, he found none to question, none even to listen to him. Colonel Bramleigh's illness had thrown a gloom over all. The girls relieved each other in watches beside their father, and Augustus and Temple dined together alone, as Lord Culduff's gout still detained him in his room. It was as the dinner drew to its close that Mr. Cutbill was announced. “It ain't serious, I hope? I mean, they don't think the case dangerous?” said he, as he arranged his napkin on his knee. Augustus only shook his head in silence. “Why, what age is he? not sixty?” “Fifty-one--fifty-two in June.” “That's not old; that's the prime of life, especially when a man has taken nothing out of himself.” “He was always temperate,--most temperate.” “Just so; even his own choice Mouton did n't tempt him into the second bottle. I remember that well. I said to myself, 'Tom Cutbill, that green seal would n't fare so well in your keeping.' I had _such_ a bag of news for him. All the rogueries on 'Change, fresh and fresh. I suppose it is quite hopeless to think of telling him now?” “Not to be thought of.” “How he 'd have liked to have heard about Hewlett and Bell! They 're gone for close on two millions; they 'll not pay over sixpence in the pound, and Rinker, the Bombay fellow that went in for cotton, has caught it too! Cotton and indigo have ruined more men than famine and pestilence. I 'd be shot, if I was a Lord of the Council, if I would n't have a special prayer for them in the Litany. Well, Temple, and how are you, all this while?” said he, turning abruptly to the diplomatist, who sat evidently inattentive to the dialogue. “What, sir, did you address _me?_” cried he, with a look of astonishment and indignation. “I should think I did; and I never heard you were Premier Earl, or that other thing of England, that you need look so shocked at the liberty! You Foreign Office swells are very grand folk to each other; but take my word for it, the world, the real world, thinks very little of you.” Temple arose slowly from his place, threw his napkin on the table, and turning to Augustus, said, “You 'll find me in the library,” and withdrew. “That's dignified, I take it,” said Cutbill; “but to my poor appreciation, it's not the way to treat a guest under his father's roof.” “A guest has duties, Mr. Cutbill, as well as rights. My brother is not accustomed to the sort of language you address to him, nor is he at all to blame if he decline to hear more of it.” “So that I am to gather you think he was right.” Augustus bowed coldly.