CHAPTER XXXIV.
Not even the news of Flodden brought direr dismay to Hechnahoul than Mr.
Maddison's brief note.

Lord Tulliwuddle an impostor?
That magnificent young man a fraud?
So much geniality, brawn, and taste for the bagpipes merely the sheep's clothing that hid a wandering wolf?
Incredible! Yet, on second thoughts, how very much more thrilling than if he had really been an ordinary peer! And what a judgment on the presumption of Mr.and Mrs.Gallosh! Hard luck on Eva, of course--but, then, girls who aspire to marry out of their own station must expect this kind of thing.
The latter part of this commentary was naturally not that of the pretender's host and hostess.

In the throes of their anger and chagrin their one consoling reflection was that no friends less tried than Mr.
and Mrs.Rentoul happened to be there to witness their confusion.

Yet other sufferers since Job have found that the oldest friends do not necessarily of er the most acceptable consolation.
"Oh, oh! I feel like to die of grief!" wailed poor Mrs.Gallosh.
"Aye; it's an awful smack in the eye for you," said Mr.Rentoul sagely.
"Smack in the eye!" thundered his host.

"It's a criminal offence--that's what it is! It's a damned swindle! It's a----" "Oh, hush, hush!" interrupted Mrs.Rentoul in a shocked voice.