Neither did Lord Scamperdale arrive before he was wanted, a very common custom with people unused to public visiting.

He cast up just when he was wanted.

His ring of the door-bell acted like the little tinkling bell at a theatre, sending all parties to their places, for the curtain to rise.
Spigot and his two footmen answered the summons, while his lordship's groom rushed out of a side-door, with his mouth full of cold meat, to take his hack.
Having given his flat hat to Spigot, his whip-stick to one footman, and his gloves to the other, he proceeded to the family tableau in the drawing-room.
Though his lordship lived so much by himself he was neither _gauche_ nor stupid when he went into society.

Unlike Mr.Spraggon, he had a tremendous determination of words to the mouth, and went best pace with his tongue instead of coughing and hemming, and stammering and stuttering--wishing himself 'well out of it,' as the saying is.

His seclusion only seemed to sharpen his faculties and make him enjoy society more.