But it wasn't Mr. Howarth. I could hear that the voice was different directly Mr. FitzHoward opened the door. What was taking place I didn't know. But it was quite two or three minutes before Mr. FitzHoward returned. Then he threw open the door with a flourish. 'This gentleman wishes to speak to you--though he has not done me the honour of mentioning his name.' Some one came into the room. 'I'm the Marquis of Twickenham,' he said. He was quite young, and not bad-looking, and carried himself as, to my mind, only a gentleman can. He was very polite, though in quite a different way to Mr. Howarth. What he said I felt he meant; and I never had that feeling about the other man. I liked him, in spite of all my trouble, directly I set eyes on him and heard him speak. Though the idea of my mixing as an equal with the likes of him did strike me, even then, as against nature. You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear; and a sow's ear I am, so to speak, and shall be. When he saw me he stared at me; not as if he wanted to, but as if he couldn't help it. 'I beg your pardon, but are you the lady Miss Desmond saw this morning?' 'This morning I did see Miss Desmond.' 'This,' said Mr. FitzHoward, stretching out his arm towards me as if he was a sign-post, 'is the Marchioness of Twickenham.' I could have shaken him. The young gentleman looked him up and down, in that Who-on-earth-are-you kind-of-way which gentlemen do have; sometimes, I have heard say, without their knowing it. 'Indeed.--And may I ask, sir, who are you?' 'You may. I'm not ashamed of my name, and never shall be. I'm Augustus FitzHoward. For the last twenty years I have been connected with the profession, acting in a managerial capacity for some of the greatest stars who have ever illuminated the theatrical firmament. There, sir, is my card.' The young gentleman held it between his finger and thumb as if he was afraid it would scorch him. 'Ah.' He turned to me. 'Is this gentleman a friend of yours?' 'He's a friend of my husband's.' I said it pretty briskly--because I didn't mean to have Mr. FitzHoward sat upon, even though he would talk silly. 'May I speak in front of him?' 'Certainly. I have no secrets from Mr. FitzHoward. The absurd man must put in his word. He pulled up his shirt collar and arranged his tie. 'Thank you, Marchioness, for this mark of your confidence; though, knowing you as I do, I have no hesitation in saying that it's no more than I expected. I may take this opportunity of informing the gentleman that I was on the most intimate terms with the late Marquis, both as regards business and friendship.' 'The late Marquis?' 'The late Marquis is what I said, and the late Marquis is what I meant. He was known to the public, with whom he had a world-wide reputation, as that Marvel of the Age--Montagu Babbacombe.' CHAPTER XVII THE MARCHIONESS IN SPITE OF HERSELF