“Oh, quick! do come in, Edmund,” said Lady Fanny, laughing; and the carriage steps being let down, and giving me a great scowl as he came in, he was going to place himself in Lady Fanny’s corner (I warrant you I wouldn’t budge from mine), when the little rogue cried out, “Oh, no! by no means, Mr. Preston.  Shut the door, Thomas.  And oh! what fun it will be to show all the world a Secretary of State riding bodkin!”

And pretty glum the Secretary of State looked, I assure you!

“Take my place, Edmund, and don’t mind Fanny’s folly,” said Lady Jane, timidly.

“Oh no!  Pray, madam, don’t stir!  I’m comfortable, very comfortable; and so I hope is this Mr.—­this gentleman.”

“Perfectly, I assure you,” says I.  “I was going to offer to ride your horse home for you, as you seemed to be rather frightened at it; but the fact was, I was so comfortable here that really I couldn’t move.”

Such a grin as old Lady Drum gave when I said that!—­how her little eyes twinkled, and her little sly mouth puckered up!  I couldn’t help speaking, for, look you, my blood was up.

“We shall always be happy of your company, Cousin Titmarsh,” says she; and handed me a gold snuff-box, out of which I took a pinch, and sneezed with the air of a lord.

“As you have invited this gentleman into your carriage, Lady Jane Preston, hadn’t you better invite him home to dinner?” says Mr. Preston, quite blue with rage.

“I invited him into my carriage,” says the old lady; “and as we are going to dine at your house, and you press it, I’m sure I shall be very happy to see him there.”

“I’m very sorry I’m engaged,” said I.

“Oh, indeed, what a pity!” says Right Honourable Ned, still glowering at his wife.  “What a pity that this gentleman—­I forget his name—­that your friend, Lady Jane, is engaged!  I am sure you would have had such gratification in meeting your relation in Whitehall.”

Lady Drum was over-fond of finding out relations to be sure; but this speech of Right Honourable Ned’s was rather too much.  “Now, Sam,” says I, “be a man and show your spirit!” So I spoke up at once, and said, “Why, ladies, as the right honourable gent is so very pressing, I’ll give up my engagement, and shall have sincere pleasure in cutting mutton with him.  What’s your hour, sir?”

He didn’t condescend to answer, and for me I did not care; for, you see, I did not intend to dine with the man, but only to give him a lesson of manners.  For though I am but a poor fellow, and hear people cry out how vulgar it is to eat peas with a knife, or ask three times for cheese, and such like points of ceremony, there’s something, I think, much more vulgar than all this, and that is, insolence to one’s inferiors.  I hate the chap that uses it, as I scorn him of humble rank that affects to be of the fashion; and so I determined to let Mr. Preston know a piece of my mind.