'What Buckhurst is that, Harry?' inquired Lord Monmouth, in a tone of some
interest, and for the first time calling him by his Christian name.

'Sir Charles Buckhurst, sir, a Berkshire man: Shirley Park is his place.'

'Why, that must be Charley's son, Eskdale,' said Lord Monmouth; 'I had no
idea he could be so young.'

'He married late, you know, and had nothing but daughters for a long
time.'

'Well, I hope there will be no Reform Bill for Eton,' said Lord Monmouth,
musingly.

The servants had now retired.

'I think, Lord Monmouth,' said Mr. Rigby, 'we must ask permission to drink
one toast to-day.'

'Nay, I will myself give it,' he replied. 'Madame Colonna, you will, I am
sure, join us when we drink, THE DUKE!'

'Ah! what a man!' exclaimed the Princess. 'What a pity it is you have a
House of Commons here! England would be the greatest country in the world
if it were not for that House of Commons. It makes so much confusion!'

'Don't abuse our property,' said Lord Eskdale; 'Lord Monmouth and I have
still twenty votes of that same body between us.'

'And there is a combination,' said Rigby, 'by which you may still keep