It would give him the opportunity of meeting men whom he really wished to know.

He thought he might accept it and go to the dinner as plain Mr.John Scott, of the _National Liberator_, without danger of being recognized as the Marquis of Arondelle.
For in the days of his family's prosperity he had been too young to enter London society.
And in these days of his adversity he was known to but a limited number of individuals in the city, and only by his common family name.
On the appointed evening, therefore, he put on his well-brushed dress-suit, spotless linen, and fresh gloves, and presented himself at Elmhurst House as well dressed as any West End noble or city nabob there.
He was shown up to the drawing-room by the attentive footman, who opened the door, and announced: "Mr.John Scott." And the young Marquis of Arondelle entered the room, where a brilliant little company of about half a dozen gentlemen and as many ladies were assembled.
The noble host came forward to welcome the new guest.

His lordship met him with much cordiality, and immediately presented him to Lady -- --, who received him with the graceful and gracious courtesy for which she was so well known.
Finally the minister took the young journalist across the room toward a very tall, thin, fair-skinned, gray-haired old gentleman, who stood with a pale, dark-eyed, richly-dressed young girl by his side.
They were standing for the moment, with their backs to the company, and were critically examining a picture on the wall--a master-piece of one of the old Italian painters.
"Sir Lemuel," said the host, lightly touching the art-critic on the shoulder.
The old gentleman turned around.
"Sir Lemuel, permit me to present to you Mr.John Jones--I beg pardon--Mr.John Scott, of the _National Liberator_--Mr.Scott, Sir Lemuel Levison, our member for Lone," said the minister.
Sir Lemuel Levison saw before him the young Marquis of Arondelle, whom he had know as a boy and young man for years in the Highlands, and of whom, indeed, he had purchased his life interest in Lone.

But he gave no sign of this recognition.
The young marquis, on his part, had every reason to know the man who had succeeded, not to say supplanted, his father at Lone Castle.

But by no sign did he betray this knowledge.
The recognition was mutual, instantaneous and complete.