“Capital! capital! He is a good fellow now, isn’t he? A really good fellow! I am sure you ought to be much obliged to me for sending you such a cheery soul, Mrs. Hammond. And he is not so very old,” the earl added waggishly. “Not too old, you know, Miss Hammond. Young for his years, at any rate.” Laura laughed and colored a little—what would offend in a commoner is in a peer pure drollery; and, as it happened, at this moment the rector came in. The news of the earl’s presence had kindled a spark of elation in his eye. He had not waited for the servant to announce him; and as he stood a second at the door, closing it, he confronted the company with an air of modest dignity which more than one remarked. His glance rested momentarily upon the figure of the earl, who was the only stranger in the room, so that he had no difficulty in identifying him; and he seemed in two minds whether he should address him. On second thoughts he laid aside the intention, and advanced to Mrs. Hammond. “I am afraid I scarcely deserve any tea,” he said pleasantly, “I am so late.” Laura, who had risen, touched his arm. “Lord Dynmore is here,” she said in a low voice, which was nevertheless distinctly heard by all. “I do not think you have seen him.” He took it as an informal introduction, and turned to Lord Dynmore, who was leaning against the fireplace, toying with his teacup and talking to Mrs. Homfray. The young rector advanced a step and held out his hand, a slight flush on his cheek. “There is no one whom I ought to be better pleased to see than yourself, Lord Dynmore,” he said with some feeling. “I have been looking forward for some time to this meeting.” “Ah, to be sure,” replied the peer, holding out his hand readily, though he was somewhat mystified by the other’s earnestness. “I am pleased to meet you, I am sure. Greatly pleased.” The listeners, who had heard what he had just said about his great friend, the rector, stared. Only the person to whom the words were addressed saw nothing odd in them. “You have not long returned to England, I think?” he answered. “No; came back last Saturday night. And how is the rector? Where is he? Why does he not show up? I understood Mrs. Hammond to say he was coming.” The archdeacon, Mrs. Hammond, and the others were dumb with astonishment. Even Lindo was surprised, thinking it very dull in the earl not to guess at once that he was the new incumbent. So no one answered, and the peer, glancing sharply round, discerned that every one was at a loss. “Eh! Oh, I see,” he resumed in a different tone. “You are not one of his curates? I made a mistake, I suppose. Took you for one of his curates, do you see? That was all. Beg your pardon. Beg your pardon, I am sure. But where is he?” “This _is_ the rector, Lord Dynmore,” said the archdeacon in an uncertain, puzzled way. “No, no, no, no,” replied the great man fretfully. “I mean the old rector—my old friend.”