"Eh?"
"I must tell you what an impression your conduct at dinner made upon me."
The paragon, whose wits were slightly sharpened by cowardice, immediately walked to the conclusion that Mrs. Verulam had observed his ostentatious secrecy with the Duchess. He therefore replied:
"Go along with yer! Rubbish! She's a deal too old!"
Mrs. Verulam, under the impression that her hero was alluding to his gallant conduct with the cutlet, answered softly:
"Yes, indeed! Had you not acted so promptly, who can tell what the result might have been? I honour you for it. Good night, Mr. Bush;" and she pressed his mighty hand with hers.
"I hope you believe me, Duke?" Lady Drake piped anxiously. "I do assure you that you have been labouring under a totally wrong impression. Mr. Bush is nothing to me."
The Duke bowed, and shot a terrible glance at the paragon.
"Mr. Bush is the devil in human form," he muttered.
"Oh dear!" cried Lady Drake. "Oh! but then, why did Mrs. Verulam invite him for the race-week?"