Albert recoiled.  He had had enough of speculation where the butler was concerned.  Where that schemer was allowed to get within reach of it, hard cash melted away.

“What are you going to do?”

“Never you mind what I’m going to do.  I ’ave my methods.  All I ’ave to say to you is that tomorrow or the day after Mr. Bevan will be seated in our dining-’all with ’is feet under our table, replying according to his personal taste and preference, when I ask ’im if ’e’ll ’ave ’ock or sherry.  Brush all them crumbs carefully off the tablecloth, young blighted Albert—­don’t shuffle your feet—­breathe softly through your nose—­and close the door be’ind you when you’ve finished!”

“Oh, go and eat cake!” said Albert bitterly.  But he said it to his immortal soul, not aloud.  The lad’s spirit was broken.

Keggs, the processes of digestion completed, presented himself before Lord Belpher in the billiard-room.  Percy was alone.  The house-party, so numerous on the night of the ball and on his birthday, had melted down now to reasonable proportions.  The second and third cousins had retired, flushed and gratified, to obscure dens from which they had emerged, and the castle housed only the more prominent members of the family, always harder to dislodge than the small fry.  The Bishop still remained, and the Colonel.  Besides these, there were perhaps half a dozen more of the closer relations:  to Lord Belpher’s way of thinking, half a dozen too many.  He was not fond of his family.

“Might I have a word with your lordship?”

“What is it, Keggs?”

Keggs was a self-possessed man, but he found it a little hard to begin.  Then he remembered that once in the misty past he had seen Lord Belpher spanked for stealing jam, he himself having acted on that occasion as prosecuting attorney; and the memory nerved him.

“I earnestly ’ope that your lordship will not think that I am taking a liberty.  I ’ave been in his lordship your father’s service many years now, and the family honour is, if I may be pardoned for saying so, extremely near my ’eart.  I ’ave known your lordship since you were a mere boy, and . . .”

Lord Belpher had listened with growing impatience to this preamble.  His temper was seldom at its best these days, and the rolling periods annoyed him.

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said.  “What is it?”

Keggs was himself now.  In his opening remarks he had simply been, as it were, winding up.  He was now prepared to begin.

“Your lordship will recall inquiring of me on the night of the ball as to the bona fides of one of the temporary waiters?  The one that stated that ’e was the cousin of young bli—­of the boy Albert, the page?  I have been making inquiries, your lordship, and I regret to say I find that the man was a impostor.  He informed me that ’e was Albert’s cousin, but Albert now informs me that ’e ’as no cousin in America.  I am extremely sorry this should have occurred, your lordship, and I ’ope you will attribute it to the bustle and haste inseparable from duties as mine on such a occasion.”