The waiter's account was strictly true, for his lordship was at breakfast, and his lordship was packing. _En robe de chambre_, with a cup of coffee in one hand, and a bunch of keys in the other, he was standing beside his valet, who knelt before a carriage-seat he was endeavouring to close. Lord Mucklebury was facing the door, and raised his eyes as it opened. The sight that greeted them was assuredly unexpected, but the nerve with which he bore it did honour to his practised philosophy. "Mrs. Barnaby!" he exclaimed, with a smile, in which his valet seemed to take a share, for the fellow turned his head away to conceal its effect upon him.... "Mrs. Barnaby!... How very kind this is.... But I grieve such obliging benevolence should be shewn at a moment when I have so little leisure to express my gratitude.... My dear lady, I am this instant starting for the continent." "I know it, sir.... I know it but too well!" replied the widow, considerably embarrassed by his easy tone.... "Permit me, however, to speak to you for one moment before you set out." "Assuredly!... Place yourself on this sofa, Mrs. Barnaby.... How deeply I regret that moments so delightful.... Confound you, Rawlins, you'll break those hinges to pieces if you force them so.... My dear lady!... I am shocked to death; ... but, upon my soul, I have not a moment to spare!" "I wish to speak to you, my lord, without the presence of your servant." "My dearest Mrs. Barnaby, you need not mind Rawlins any more than the coffee-pot!... You have no idea what a capital fellow he is!... true as steel ... silent as the grave.... That's it, Rawlins!... I'll set my foot upon it while you turn the key ... here! it is this crooked one." "Lord Mucklebury!... you must be aware," ... began the widow. "Aware!... Good Heaven, yes!... To be sure, I am! But what can I do, my dearest Mrs. Barnaby?... I must catch the packet, you see.... How is dear, good Miss Morrison?... Now for the dressing-case, Rawlins!... don't forget the soap--I've done with it!... For goodness' sake, don't tell my excellent friend, Miss Morrison, how very untidy you have found everything about me.... She is so very neat, you know!... I'm sure she'd.... Mind the stoppers, Rawlins--put a bit of cotton upon each of them!" "Is it thus, Lord Mucklebury, that you receive one who...." "I know what you would say, my charming friend!" interrupted his lordship, handing her a plate of buttered toast, ... "that I am the greatest bear in existence!... No! you will not eat with me?... But you must excuse me, dear friend, for I have a long drive before me." And, so saying, Lord Mucklebury seated himself at the table, replenished his coffee-cup, broke the shell of an egg, and seriously set about eating an excellent breakfast.