“Then Theign’s not yet here!” Lord John had to resign himself as he greeted his American ally. “But he told me I should find you.”

“He has kept me waiting,” that gentleman returned —“but what’s the matter with him anyway?”

“The matter with him”— Lord John treated such ignorance as irritating —“must of course be this beastly thing in the ‘Journal.’”

Mr. Bender proclaimed, on the other hand, his incapacity to seize such connections. “What’s the matter with the beastly thing?”

“Why, aren’t you aware that the stiffest bit of it is a regular dig at you?”

“If you call that a regular dig you can’t have had much experience of the Papers. I’ve known them to dig much deeper.”

“I’ve had no experience of such horrid attacks, thank goodness; but do you mean to say,” asked Lord John with the surprise of his own delicacy, “that you don’t unpleasantly feel it?”

“Feel it where, my dear sir?”

“Why, God bless me, such impertinence, everywhere!”

“All over me at once?”— Mr. Bender took refuge in easy humour. “Well, I’m a large man — so when I want to feel so much I look out for something good. But what, if he suffers from the blot on his ermine — ain’t that what you wear? — does our friend propose to do about it?”

Lord John had a demur, which was immediately followed by the apprehension of support in his uncertainty. Lady Sandgate was before them, having reached them through the other room, and to her he at once referred the question. “What will Theign propose, do you think, Lady Sandgate, to do about it?”

She breathed both her hospitality and her vagueness. “To ‘do’——?”

“Don’t you know about the thing in the ‘Journal’— awfully offensive all round?”

“There’d be even a little pinch for you in it,” Mr. Bender said to her —“if you were bent on fitting the shoe!”

Well, she met it all as gaily as was compatible with a firm look at her elder guest while she took her place with them. “Oh, the shoes of such monsters as that are much too big for poor me!” But she was more specific for Lord John. “I know only what Grace has just told me; but since it’s a question of footgear dear Theign will certainly — what you may call — take his stand!”

Lord John welcomed this assurance. “If I know him he’ll take it splendidly!”

Mr. Bender’s attention was genial, though rather more detached. “And what — while he’s about it — will he take it particularly on?”

“Oh, we’ve plenty of things, thank heaven,” said Lady Sandgate, “for a man in Theign’s position to hold fast by!”

Lord John freely confirmed it. “Scores and scores — rather! And I will say for us that, with the rotten way things seem going, the fact may soon become a real convenience.”

Mr. Bender seemed struck — and not unsympathetic. “I see that your system would be rather a fraud if you hadn’t pretty well fixed that!”

Lady Sandgate spoke as one at present none the less substantially warned and convinced. “It doesn’t, however, alter the fact that we’ve thus in our ears the first growl of an outcry.”

“Ah,” Lord John concurred, “we’ve unmistakably the first growl of an outcry!”

Mr. Bender’s judgment on the matter paused at sight of Lord Theign, introduced and announced, as Lord John spoke, by Gotch; but with the result of his addressing directly the person so presenting himself. “Why, they tell me that what this means, Lord Theign, is the first growl of an outcry!”

The appearance of the most eminent figure in the group might have been held in itself to testify to some such truth; in the sense at least that a certain conscious radiance, a gathered light of battle in his lordship’s aspect would have been explained by his having taken the full measure — an inner success with which he glowed — of some high provocation. He was flushed, but he bore it as the ensign of his house; he was so admirably, vividly dressed, for the morning hour and for his journey, that he shone as with the armour of a knight; and the whole effect of him, from head to foot, with every jerk of his unconcern and every flash of his ease, was to call attention to his being utterly unshaken and knowing perfectly what he was about. It was at this happy pitch that he replied to the prime upsetter of his peace.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what anything means to you, Mr. Bender — but it’s exactly to find out that I’ve asked you, with our friend John, kindly to meet me here. For a very brief conference, dear lady, by your good leave,” he went on to Lady Sandgate; “at which I’m only too pleased that you yourself should assist. The ‘first growl’ of any outcry, I may mention to you all, affects me no more than the last will ——!”

“So I’m delighted to gather”— Lady Sandgate took him straight up —“that you don’t let go your inestimable Cure.”

He at first quite stared superior —”‘Let go’?”— but then treated it with a lighter touch. “Upon my honour I might, you know — that dose of the daily press has made me feel so fit! I arrive at any rate,” he pursued to the others and in particular to Mr. Bender, “I arrive with my decision taken — which I’ve thought may perhaps interest you. If that tuppeny rot is an attempt at an outcry I simply nip it in the bud.”

Lord John rejoicingly approved. “Absolutely the only way — with the least self-respect — to treat it!”

Lady Sandgate, on the other hand, sounded a sceptical note. “But are you sure it’s so easy, Theign, to hush up a real noise?”

“It ain’t what I’d call a real one, Lady Sandgate,” Mr. Bender said; “you can generally distinguish a real one from the squeak of two or three mice! But granted mice do affect you, Lord Theign, it will interest me to hear what sort of a trap — by what you say — you propose to set for them.”

“You must allow me to measure, myself, Mr. Bender,” his lordship replied, “the importance of a gross freedom publicly used with my absolutely personal proceedings and affairs; to the cause and origin of any definite report of which — in such ............