"I have no authority to gratify your ladyship's curiosity. I am here simply to negotiate a certain business transaction. As there seems no probability of our coming to terms I may as well take my leave at once. When Lord Loughton arrives in England he will no doubt be able to satisfy your ladyship's affectionate inquiries: whether he will care to do so is another matter." Mr. Fildew rose and pushed back his chair.
"Sit down, sir," said her ladyship, with an imperious gesture. "If you were Lord Loughton himself you could not treat me more cavalierly." Her head began to nod portentously.
"Suppose I am Lord Loughton?" said Mr. Fildew, quietly, as he resumed his seat.
"Eh!" said her ladyship, with a sudden scared look.
"I say--suppose I am Lord Loughton?"
She stuck her double eyeglass across her nose and stared at him for a moment or two. "You Lord Loughton--you!" she said, with a little derisive cackle. "Tchut! tchut! that would be a farce indeed."
"A farce that, like many others in real life, may involve a most serious meaning. But whether it be a farce or a masquerade, it is high time it were ended. Permit me, therefore, to introduce myself to your ladyship as John Marmaduke Lorrimore, ninth Earl of Loughton."
[CHAPTER IV.]
TERMS PROPOSED.
"I don't believe one word you have said. You are nothing but a vile impostor," exclaimed Lady Loughton, with all the energy at her command, while her head continued to wag as if at any moment it might fall off.