The door of the dining room was at that moment thrown open, however, and the Marquis entered. Pausing for a moment on the threshold, in line with a long row of dingy portraits, there was something distinctly striking in the family likeness so mercilessly reproduced in his long face, with the somewhat high cheek bones, his tall, angular figure, the easy bearing and gracious smile. One missed the snuffbox from between his fingers, and the uniform, but there was yet something curiously unmodern in the appearance of this last representative of the Mandeleys. "Let no one disturb themselves, pray," he begged. "I am a little late. My dear Caroline, I am delighted to see you," he went on, raising his sister's fingers to his lips. "Margaret, I shall make no enquiries about your health! You are looking wonderfully well to-day." The Duchess glanced towards her protégé, who had risen to his feet and stood facing his newly arrived host. There was a moment's poignant silence. The two men, for some reason or other, seemed to regard each other with no common interest. "This is my friend, Mr. David Thain," the Duchess announced,--"my brother, the Marquis of Mandeleys. Mr. Thain is an American, Reginald." The Marquis shook hands with his guest, a form of welcome in which he seldom indulged. "Any friend of yours, Caroline," he said quietly, "is very welcome to my house. Robert," he added, as he took his seat, "they tell me that you were talking rubbish about agriculture in the House last night. Why do you talk about agriculture? You know nothing about it. You are not even, so far as I remember, a landed proprietor." Sir Robert smiled. "And therefore, sir, I am unprejudiced." "No one can talk about land, nowadays, without being prejudiced," his father-in-law rejoined. "Father," Letitia begged, "do tell us about the case." The Marquis watched the whiskey and soda with which his glass was being filled. "The case, my dear," he acknowledged, "has, I am sorry to say, gone against me. A remarkably ill-informed and unattractive looking person, whom they tell me will presently be Lord Chief Justice, presumed not only to give a decision which was in itself quite absurd, but also refused leave to appeal." "Sorry to hear that, sir," Sir Robert remarked. "Cost you a lot of money, too, I'm afraid." "I believe that it has been an expensive case," the Marquis admitted. "My lawyer seemed very depressed about it." "And you mean to say that it's really all over and done with now?" Lady Margaret enquired. "For the present, it certainly seems so," the Marquis replied. "I cannot believe, personally, that the laws of my country afford me no relief, under the peculiar circumstances of the case. According to Mr. Wadham, however, they do not."