"Of course, his lordship took her in," the Englishman declared. "A earl 'as precedence of a judge or a bishop." "I'd like to have a look at that lordship of yours," the Irishwoman said, as she rose to her feet. "I'll slip up the stairs there, and maybe I can get a glimpse of 'em through the door an' no one a ha'p'orth the wiser. Is it a young man your lordship is?" "His lordship is a young man yet," the valet replied. "I know what that means," the laundress answered. "If he's a young man yet, I'll go bail he hasn't a hair between him an' heaven. An' to think that our Miss Ethel here is to take up with a poor hairless cratur like that. Well, well, there's no accountin' for tastes! Maybe I'll marry a Dutchman myself one of these days." And with that she began to climb the spiral staircase in the corner of the room. "What sort of a man is he, your milord?" asked the Frenchwoman. "He is not a bad sort at all," the Englishman answered. "Your young lady might do worse than 'ave 'im, you know--have him, I mean. I won't say but that 'e's been a bit fast in 'is time, you know; but that's nothin' to her now, is it? 'E's sowed his wild oats long ago, and 'e's ready to marry now and settle down." "He is zen--_defraichi_--how you say--worn? your milord?" the Frenchwoman went on. "And mademoiselle is an angel of candor. Zey would give her _le bon Dieu_ wizout confession." "Angel or no angel," returned Mr. Parsons, "there isn't any better catch in the three kingdoms than 'is lordship to-day. 'E's a earl, isn't 'e? And then there's the castle! Your young lady wouldn't be in a 'urry to let 'im go if she'd only seen the castle, now!" "Mademoiselle has seen ze castle," was the answer. "Well, I'll be damned!" said the valet. "But yes," the French maid explained. "Last summer, in London, your milord was presented to mademoiselle, and he began to make his court. Fifteen days after, when we were at Leamington, mademoiselle and I, we go see your castle." "It's a tip-topper now, ain't it?" he asked. "There's sometimes twenty and thirty of us in the servants' 'all, and there's goin's on, and larks, and all manner of sport. If this match comes off, now, between 'is lordship and your young lady, will you come with her or stay here with her mother?" "Never of the life do I quit mademoiselle," the Frenchwoman responded. "Then I'll 'ope to 'ave the honor of introducin' you into the best society at the castle whenever you come over," urged Mr. Parsons. The Irish laundress now began to descend the spiral stairs. The cook also came into the room and went towards the dumb-waiter, carrying a silver platter, on which shook and shone a dozen little jellied cones. "An' what might that be in thrimbles like that?" asked the Irishwoman, with curiosity. "_Pate de foie gras en aspic_," the cook responded, curtly, sending up the dish and then returning silently to the kitchen.