"Oh dear! oh my Lord—your Ladyship—what an uncommon stupid ass!" faltered Titmouse.
"Pray don't distress yourself, Mr. Titmouse," said Lady Cecilia, really feeling for his evident misery, "or you will distress us."
"I beg—humbly beg pardon—please your Lordship—your Ladyship. I'll replace it with the best in London the very first thing in the morning." Here the servant beside him, who was arranging the table-cloth, uttered a faint sound of suppressed laughter, which disconcerted Titmouse still more.
"Give yourself no concern—'tis only a trifle, Mr. Titmouse!—You understand, ha, ha?" said the earl, kindly.
"But if your Lordship will only allow me—expense is no object. I know the very best shop in Oxford Street."
"Suppose we take a glass of champagne together, Mr. Titmouse?" said the earl, rather peremptorily; and Titmouse had sense enough to be aware that he was to drop the subject. It was a good while before he recovered even the little degree of self-possession which he had had since first entering Lord Dreddlington's house. He had afterwards no very distinct recollection of the manner in which he got through the rest of dinner, but a general sense of his having been treated with the most kind and delicate forbearance—no fuss made. Suppose such an accident had occurred at Satin Lodge, or even Alibi House!
Shortly after the servants had withdrawn, Lady Cecilia rose to retire. Titmouse, seeing the earl approaching the bell, anticipated him in ringing it, and then darted to the door with the speed of a lamplighter to open it, as he did, just before a servant had raised his hand to it on the outside. Then he stood within, and the servant without, each bowing, and Lady Cecilia passed between them with stately step, her eyes fixed upon the ground, and her lip compressed with the effort to check her inclination to a smile—perhaps, even laughter. Titmouse was now left alone with Lord Dreddlington; and, on resuming his seat, most earnestly renewed his entreaties to be allowed to replace the dish which he had broken, assuring Lord Dreddlington that "money was no object at all." He was encountered, however, with so stern a negative by his Lordship, that, with a hurried apology, he dropped the subject; but the earl very good-naturedly added that he had perceived the joke intended by Mr. Titmouse—which was certainly a very good one! This would have set off poor Titmouse again; but a glance at the face of his magnificent host sealed his lips.
"I have heard it said, Mr. Titmouse," presently commenced the earl, "that you have been engaged in mercantile pursuits during the period of your exclusion from the estates which you have just recovered. Is it so, sir?"
"Ye-e-e-s—sir—my Lord"—replied Titmouse, hastily considering whether or not he should altogether sink the shop; but he dared hardly venture upon so very decisive a lie—"I was, please your Lordship, in one of the greatest establishments in the mercery line in London—at the west end, my Lord; most confidential, my Lord; management of everything; but, somehow, my Lord, I never took to it—always felt a cut above it—your Lordship understands?"