“Who’s coming?” asked Miss Bernard.

Miss Bernard was the acknowledged beauty referred to in the opening lines of this chapter, whose love Eugene had been lucky enough to secure.  Had Eugene not been absurdly rich himself, he might have been congratulated further on the prospective enjoyment of a nice little fortune as well as the lady’s favor.

“Is Rickmansworth coming?” put in Lady Claudia, before Eugene had time to reply to his fiancee.

“Be at peace,” he said, addressing Lady Claudia; “your brother is not coming.  I have known Rickmansworth a long while, and I never knew him to be polite.  He inquired by telegram (reply not paid) who were to be here.  When I wired him, telling him whom I had the privilege of entertaining, and requesting an immediate reply (not paid), he answered that he thought I must have enough Territons already, and he didn’t want to make another.”

Neither Lady Claudia nor her brother Robert, who was the young man with the beer, seemed put out at this message.  Indeed, the latter went so far as to say: 

“Good!  Have some beer, Eugene?”

“But who is coming?” repeated Miss Kate.  “Really, Eugene, you might pay a little attention to me.”

“Can’t, my dear Kate—­not in public.  It’s not good form, is it, Lady Claudia?”

“Eugene,” said Mrs. Lane, in a tone as nearly severe as she ever arrived at, “if you wish your guests to have either dinner or beds, you will at once tell me who and how many they are.”

“My dear mother, they are in number five, composed as follows:  First, the Bishop of Bellminster.”

“A most interesting man,” observed Miss Chambers.

“I am glad to hear it, Aunt Jane,” responded Eugene.  “The Bishop is accompanied by his wife.  That makes two; and then old Merton, who was at the Colonial Office you know, and Morewood the painter make four.”

“Sir George Merton is a Radical, isn’t he?” asked Lady Claudia severely.

“He tries to be,” said Eugene.  “Shall I order a carriage to take you to the station?  I think, you know, you can stand it, with Haddington’s help.”

Mr. Spencer Haddington, the other young man in flannels, was a very rising member of the Conservative party, of which Lady Claudia conceived herself to be a pillar.  Identity of political views, in Mr. Haddington’s opinion, might well pave the way to a closer union, and this hope accounted for his having consented to pair with Eugene, who sat on the other side, and spend the last week in idleness at Millstead.

“Well,” said Mr. Robert Territon, “it sounds slow, old man.”

“Candid family, the Territons,” remarked Eugene to the copper-beech.

“Who’s the fifth? you’ve only told us four,” said Kate, who always stuck to the point.

“The fifth is—­” Eugene paused a moment, as though preparing a sensation; “the fifth is—­Father Stafford.”

Now it was a remarkable thing that all the ladies looked up quickly and re-echoed the name of the last guest in accents of awe, whereas the men seemed unaffected.