"Compose yourself, my excellent old friend," said the young Prince, pressing Whittingham's hand: "I am indeed come back—and to remain, too, for a long—long time."
The footman who attended upon the Grand-Duke's carriage now approached our hero, and with head uncovered, said in a tone of extreme deference, "Is it the pleasure of your Highness that the chariot should remain, or return to Richmond?"
"I wish you to stay here until the morning," answered Richard; "as I shall visit his Serene Highness to-morrow."
The footman bowed, and retreating to the hall-steps, cried aloud to the coachman, "The Prince commands us to remain."
"Hey! what's that?" ejaculated Whittingham, who, together with the others present, had caught those swelling titles. "I heerd, Master Richard, that you was a Markiss; but——"
"It has pleased the gracious sovereign to whose service I have the honour to belong, to invest me with the rank which has surprised you," answered Richard, laughing at his old dependant's bewilderment: "at the same time I can assure you that you will please me best by addressing me ever as you have been accustomed to do from my childhood."
The butler seemed to reflect profoundly for a few moments, with his eyes fixed on the marble floor then, suddenly raising his head, he exclaimed, "No, Master Richard—it can't be done! It would be to treat you as if you was still a boy. There's such a thing in the world as epaulette—etiquette, I mean; and I know myself better than to lose sight on it. Besides, Master Richard—it isn't every one as is butler to a Prince; and I'm proud of the office. So now I've called you Master Richard for the last time. Marian, bustle about the supper—and see that the servants with the carriage is well taken care of. You can show 'em round to the stables; while I light his Highness to the drawing-room."
Having issued these commands in a tone of pompous importance which the old man had not adopted for some years past, he seized a candle and led the way in a solemn and dignified manner up stairs.
"Poor Whittingham scarcely knows whether he stands on his head or his feet," whispered Richard, laughing, to Ellen and Katharine, as he placed himself between them, and gave them each an arm. "Let us, however, humour the good old man, and ascend with due ceremony to the drawing-room."
The reader will not require us to detail all the conversation which ensued. Markham had so much to tell, and his hearers so much to learn, that the time slipped away with lightning speed. Our hero not only related at length all that had occurred to him in Italy, but also entered upon explanations which he had never broached before relative to his attachment to Isabella. He made Whittingham sit down and listen to all he had to say; and he concluded by acquainting those present with his intended marriage.