As the days went on the Twickenham romance was in all the papers. Some of them made it quite a feature. I wished to goodness they wouldn't. They showed how the Marquis had returned--after his family had supposed that he was dead, and had actually buried some one else instead of him. I'm not thin-skinned, but some of their comments made me squirm. The Head of the House of Twickenham could not occupy his proper place in the public eye, while the papers were suffered to print such things of him. One morning I took a bundle of them down to Foster. 'Have you seen these papers?' I inquired. 'I've seen some of them.' 'Isn't it nice reading?' 'If I were your lordship I should pay no attention to what appears in the public prints.' 'Not when they leave me without a shred of character?' 'Your lordship's return is still a novelty. They may continue to make copy of it for a time. Presently they will cease to speak of you at all.' 'You have a pleasant way of putting things! Then, until they do choose to treat me with silent contempt, I'm to allow them to say that I cheat at cards, that I don't pay my debts, that I'm an evil liver of the lowest type, and, in fact, an all-round beast and blackguard.' Foster eyed me with a curiosity which was distinctly the reverse of flattering. 'Your lordship will permit me to speak with that frankness which alone can be of service?' 'My good man, be as frank as you choose.' 'Your lordship has surely not forgotten that there were incidents in your youthful career which did not redound to the credit of your character.' 'But when it comes to stating that I was kicked--literally kicked!--down the steps of a club for cheating at cards!' 'It is not a savoury subject, but is that not what happened? I am not aware that your lordship offered any contradiction at the time, although a signed statement of what occurred was posted on the notice board of the club in question. If your lordship will take my very serious advice, you will endeavour to live down the recollection of these things, and not, by legal or other action, drag them into the public eye.' How I writhed when I left my counsellor's presence. This was indeed to be a whipping boy. Also this was the result of not being a student of the British peerage. If I had known what kind of an ornament to it his lordship really was, I rather fancy the Marquis would have stayed away. That I am a sinner, the saints know well. I'll not say that I'd be aught else if I had the choice. But this man appeared to have committed all the sins for which I've no stomach. He was, before all else, an unmanly man. Nothing mean, it seemed, he had left undone. In none of his misdoings had he shown a spark of courage. Nor, so far as I could learn, had he once remained to face the music. He had lied and cheated, in all sorts of dirty fashions, blubbered and run away.