Meanwhile Mrs. Kington was amusing herself very much, and young Lord George did nothing but laugh and listen to the backwoodsman. “Tell me about the big game,” the lady had said in a little mellifluous voice. “I shoot myself, and my husband has made the most famous bags. He was in Africa too. Pray tell me about the big game. Did you go in for lions or elephants or what was it? It is so interesting to meet with a man fresh from the desert.” “You are very kind to say so, my lady,” said Ralph, “but it’s all nonsense about big game. That’s only Tisch’s fun. She knows very well I had something quite different in my mind. I’ve had a shot at a kangaroo or a dog, and I’m sorry to say I’ve hit a black fellow more than once by mistake. Perhaps that’s what she calls big game. Well, it is if you come to that, and deuced serious game, too. You may shoot as many tigers as you like, and get a reward for it, as I’ve heard; but if you shoot a black fellow, he’s no use even for his skin; and if it’s known, you get the Government upon your shoulders just the same as if he was a Christian.” “That is hard,” said Mrs. Kington, in her pretty voice. “I suppose you mean negroes, Mr. ----” She stopped and looked at Letitia with that delightful impertinence of the higher orders which is one of the finest flowers of civilization. “Do you know,” she whispered to Lord George, yet not so low but that Letitia could hear, “John Parke married so much out of our set that I don’t know what was her name.” “My name is Ravelstone, and I don’t care who knows it,” said Ralph. “We are not very particular about names in the bush. Sometimes you may live for years with a fellow at the same station and never know more than some nick-name that’s been given him. They used to call me----” “Your name is as old as any in Yorkshire, Ralph,” said Letitia, arresting the revelation. “Dear Lady Witheringham was just saying so. Do you know what she said? That you knew the _first_ Lord Frogmore, Lord Witheringham. We won’t let John hear, but I know what she meant. She meant that the Parkes were nobody to speak of; but I am happy to say Lady Witheringham was quite acquainted with my family. We have never had a title. What is the good of a mushroom title, that dates only from this century?” “I entirely agree with you, Mrs. Parke,” Lord Witheringham said. “What is the use,” cried Letitia, “of putting on a gloss of nobility when you have the substance before; and what is the use of plastering over a name that means nothing with titles? For my part I think there’s nothing like real antiquity--a family that has lived in the same place and owned the same ground from the beginning of time.” “Mrs. Parke, I admire every word you say. Such just feeling is very uncommon,” Lord Witheringham said.