Mr. Styles narrowly watched the effect which this magniloquent oration produced upon the Railway Lion; and as he beheld the fat, ignoble, vulgar countenance of that stupendous animal slowly expanding with satisfaction, he knew that he was as sure of nailing Mr. Podgson for a Chairman, as he was sure of seeing Captain O’Blunderbuss and Mr. Frank Curtis in the afternoon at three o’clock to partake of chops and sherry at Crosby Hall Chambers. Nor was Mr. Bubbleton Styles mistaken. In as dignified a manner as it was in his nature to assume, and in as good English as it was in his power to employ, the great Mr. Podgson gave his assent to the proposition; and Mr. Styles was already in the midst of a set speech of thanks, when a pompous-looking livery-servant entered the room. “Well, Thomas--what now?” demanded Mr. Podgson. “Please, sir,” answered the domestic, whose countenance denoted offended dignity and wounded pride, “there’s a troublesome gentleman down below who says he must and will have a hinterview with you, sir----” “Must and will!” ejaculated the Railway Lion, sinking back in his chair with an amazement which could not have been greater had some one rushed in to tell him that the Chinese had invaded England and made a Mandarin Lord Mayor of London. “Yes, sir--must and will!” groaned the horrified domestic. “Well--I never heard such impudence in my life!” exclaimed Mr. Bubbleton Styles, affecting the deepest indignation--a little piece of hypocrisy which completely won the Railway Lion’s heart. “And does this _person_--for you was wrong to call him a _gentleman_, John,” said Mr. Podgson, somewhat recovering from his stupefaction,--“does this _person_, who _must_ and _will_ see _me_--_me_, John--_me_, Mr. Styles,--does this _person_, I say, give his name or business?” “Please, sir, he gave me his card,” returned the flunkey; “and here it be.” The high and mighty Railway Lion took the pasteboard between the tips of his thumb and fore-finger; and having glanced at it, he tossed it with sublime scorn into a waste-paper basket, exclaiming in his rough, disagreeable voice, “Mr. Clarence Villiers--eh? Well--I suppose I’d better see him. Don’t move, Mr. Styles: you shall just see how I’ll serve the insolent fellow that _must_ and _will_ have an interview with ME!” The domestic retreated without turning his back upon his master,--or, in other words, stepped backwards to the door, as if he were quitting the presence of Royalty; and Mr. Styles again vented his well-affected indignation and surprise that “people should be so bold and inconsiderate as to obtrude themselves into the presence of Mr. Podgson in such a manner.” “Bold and inconsiderate!” repeated the Railway Lion. “It is owdacious and intolerable.” “Shameful!” cried Mr. Styles. “Perfectly insupportable!” vociferated Mr. Podgson. “Monstrous in the extreme!” exclaimed Mr. Bubbleton Styles, actually working himself up into a passion.