"Well but, I say, look here! It mustn't come off." "What mustn't?" "Why, this what's-its-name--tour!" "Then it will be a bad thing for Munns. But, seriously, Etchingham, what on earth do you mean? What are you talking about?" "Well, I mean that--that young lady, Miss Lambert, mustn't go flitting about the country." "Why not? What have you to do with it?" "Why, haven't I told you--don't you recollect, before Ascot and all that?--only you're so deuced dull, and think of nothing but--well, never mind. Don't you recollect my saying I intended to ask Miss Lambert to be my wife?" And Lord Ticehurst, whom the avowal and the unusual flux of words rendered a bright peony colour, glared at his Mentor in nervous trepidation. Gilbert looked at him very calmly. The corners of his mouth twitched for an instant as he began to speak, but he was otherwise perfectly composed as he said, "I had forgotten; you must forgive me; the stable takes up so much of my time that I have scarcely leisure to look after your other amusements. O, you intend to propose for this young lady! Do you think she will accept you?" "That's a devilish nice question to ask a fellow, that is. 'Pon my soul, I don't think there's another fellow in the world that would have had the--well, the kindness--to ask that. I suppose it will be all right; if I didn't, I shouldn't--" "Shouldn't ask, eh? Well, I suppose not, and it was indiscreet in me to suggest anything different. What do you propose to do now?" "Well, what do you think? Perhaps I'd better go up to town--deuced odd town will look at this time of year, won't it?--and see Miss Lambert, and make it all straight with her; and then go off and see old Munns, and tell him he'll have to give up his notion of the what's-its-name--the tour. He'll want to be squared, of course, and we must do it for him; but I shall leave you to arrange that with him." "Of course; that will not be a difficult matter." Gilbert Lloyd waited a minute before he added, "But there is no necessity for you to go to London on this portentous matter. Miss Lambert is much nearer to you than you imagine." "Much nearer! What the deuce do you, mean?" asked Lord Ticehurst, looking round as if he expected to see Gertrude entering the room. "Exactly what I say. I had a letter this morning from Hanbury; he's staying at Hardriggs, old Sir Giles Belwether's place, not a dozen miles from here; and he mentioned that Miss Lambert was a guest there too. Wait a minute; I'll read you what he says. No, never mind, it's only some nonsense about Lady Belwether's insisting on old Bel having a Dean to stay in the house at the same time to counteract the effect of the stage, and--" "D--d impertinence!" muttered Lord Ticehurst. "I always did hate that Hanbury--sneering beast! O, about twelve miles from here, eh? Might drive over to luncheon? What do you say, Gil? Do us good, eh?"