sense of humor is immortal and survives every torment.
Fate, however, had not yet given the last turn to the screw.
V
At this moment the neat parlormaid came into the room.
"Mr. Dinneford!" she announced.
Jack stood a moment on the threshold to gaze at the three occupants. He was rather like a sailor who fears foul weather and has not the courage to read the sky.
"I'm glad you've come, young man," said Mrs. Wren, getting up to receive him. And she added almost at once, for it was never her way to beat about the bush, "We are giving her the finest talking to she has ever had in her life."
Jack nearly groaned. The look of the three of them had told him already that she must have made a fearful hash of things.
By now the Tenderfoot had risen very high in Mrs. Wren's favor. To begin with he would one day be the indubitable sixth Duke of Bridport—a handicap, no doubt, in the sight of some types of democrat, but apparently not, in the eyes of Mrs. Wren, an insuperable barrier. Again, she was a pretty shrewd judge of a man, and this one had passed all his examinations so far with flying colors. He was absolutely straight-*forward, absolutely honorable; moreover, he knew his own mind—whereby he had a signal advantage over his stable companion, who, in spite of great merits, was lacking in character.
"Yes, we are setting her to rights," said Milly,
