“No, your lordship.”

“Quite right.  Very sensible of you, Adams—­very sensible of you.  Very sen——­ What was I saying, Adams?”

“About my not taking large mouthfuls, your lordship.”

“Quite right—­quite right!  Never take large mouthfuls, Adams.  Never gobble.  Have you any children, Adams?”

“Two, your lordship.”

“I hope you teach them not to gobble.  They pay for it in later life.  Americans gobble when young and ruin their digestions.  My American friend, Mr. Peters, suffers terribly from indigestion.”

Adams lowered his voice to a confidential murmur:  “If you will pardon the liberty, your lordship—­I saw it in the paper—­”

“About Mr. Peters’ indigestion?”

“About Miss Peters, your lordship, and the Honorable Frederick.  May I be permitted to offer my congratulations?”

“Eh, Oh, yes—­the engagement.  Yes, yes, yes!  Yes—­to be sure.  Yes; very satisfactory in every respect.  High time he settled down and got a little sense.  I put it to him straight.  I cut off his allowance and made him stay at home.  That made him think—­lazy young devil!”

Lord Emsworth had his lucid moments; and in the one that occurred now it came home to him that he was not talking to himself, as he had imagined, but confiding intimate family secrets to the head steward of his club’s dining-room.  He checked himself abruptly, and with a slight decrease of amiability fixed his gaze on the bill of fare and ordered cold beef.  For an instant he felt resentful against Adams for luring him on to soliloquize; but the next moment his whole mind was gripped by the fascinating spectacle of Mr. Simmonds dealing with a wedge of Stilton cheese, and Adams was forgotten.

The cold beef had the effect of restoring his lordship to complete amiability, and when Adams in the course of his wanderings again found himself at the table he was once more disposed for light conversation.

“So you saw the news of the engagement in the paper, did you, Adams?”

“Yes, your lordship, in the Mail.  It had quite a long piece about it.  And the Honorable Frederick’s photograph and the young lady’s were in the Mirror.  Mrs. Adams clipped them out and put them in an album, knowing that your lordship was a member of ours.  If I may say so, your lordship—­a beautiful young lady.”

“Devilish attractive, Adams—­and devilish rich.  Mr. Peters is a millionaire, Adams.”

“So I read in the paper, your lordship.”

“Damme!  They all seem to be millionaires in America.  Wish I knew how they managed it.  Honestly, I hope.  Mr. Peters is an honest man, but his digestion is bad.  He used to bolt his food.  You don’t bolt your food, I hope, Adams?”

“No, your lordship; I am most careful.”

“The late Mr. Gladstone used to chew each mouthful thirty-three times.  Deuced good notion if you aren’t in a hurry.  What cheese would you recommend, Adams?”