"Oh! you obstinate old man! Oh! you lazy old man!"

It was the high-pitched voice of her ladyship in reediest tones, and the time was eleven o'clock in the forenoon, when, as a rule, she was engaged in some needlework for herself, or assisting Mrs. Bormalack with the pudding, in a friendly way, while her husband continued the statement of the case, left alone in the enjoyment of the sitting-room—and his title.

"You lazy old man!"

The words were overheard by Harry Goslett. He had been working at his miraculous cabinet, and was now, following the example of Miss Kennedy's work-girls, "knocking off" for half an hour, and thinking of some excuse for passing the rest of the morning with that young lady. He stood in the doorway, looking across the green to the sacred windows of the Dressmakers' Association. Behind them at this moment were sitting, he knew, the Queen of the Mystery, with that most beauteous nymph, the matchless Nelly, fair and lovely to look upon; and with her, too, Rebekah the downright, herself a mystery, and half a dozen more, some of them, perhaps, beautiful. Alas! in working-hours these doors were closed. Perhaps, he thought, when the cabinet was finished he might make some play by carrying it backward and forward, measuring, fitting, altering.

"You lazy, sinful, sleepy old man!"

A voice was heard feebly remonstrating.

"Oh! oh! oh!" she cried again in accents that rose higher and higher, "we have come all the way from America to prove our case. There's four months gone out of six—oh! oh!—and you with your feet upon a chair—oh! oh!—do you think you are back in Canaan City?"

"Clara Martha," replied his lordship, in clear and distinct tones—the window was wide open, so that the words floated out upon the summer air and struck gently upon Harry's ear—"Clara Martha, I wish I was; it is now holiday time, and the boys are out in the woods. And the schoolroom——" [he stopped, sighed deeply, and yawned]—"it was very peaceful."

She groaned in sheer despair.

"He is but a carpenter," she said; "he grovels in the shavings; he wallows in the sawdust. Fie upon him! This man a British peer? Oh! shame—shame!" Harry pictured the quivering shoulders and the finger of reproach. "Oh! oh! He is not worthy to wear a coronet. Give him a chunk of wood to whittle, and a knife, and a chair in the shade, and somethin' to rest his feet upon. That's all he wants, though Queen Victoria and all the angels was callin' for him across the ocean to take his seat in the House of Lords. Shame on him! Shame upon him!"

These taunts, apparently, had no effect. His lordship was understood by the listener to say something disrespectful of the Upper House, and to express regret at having exchanged his humble but contented position of a school-teacher and his breakfast, where a man could look around him and see hot rolls and muffins and huckleberry pies, for the splendor of a title, with the meagre fare of London and the hard work of drawing up a case.

"I will rouse him!" she cried, as she executed some movement, the nature of which could only be guessed by the young man outside. The windows, it is true, were open; but one's eyes cannot go outside to look in without the rest of the head and body going too. Whatever it was that she did, his lordship apparently sprang into the air with a loud cry, and, if sounds mean anything, ran hastily round the table, followed by his illustrious consort.

The listener says and always maintains—"Hairpin." Those who consider her ladyship incapable of behavior which might appear undignified reject that interpretation. Moral, not physical, were, according to these thinkers, the means of awakening adopted by Lady Davenant. Even the officers of the Salvation Army, they say, do not use hairpins.

"In the name of common humanity," said Harry to himself, "one must interfere." He knocked at the door, and allowed time for the restoration of dignity and the smoothing of ruffled plumes.

He found his lordship seated, it is true, but in the wrong chair, and his whole frame was trembling with excitement, terror, or some other strong emotion, while the effort he was making to appear calm and composed caused his head to nod and his cheeks to shake. Never was a member of the Upper House placed in a more uncomfortable position. As for her ladyship, she was standing bolt upright at the other side of the room at the window. There was a gleam in her eye and a quivering of her lip which betokened wrath.

"Pardon me, Lady Davenant," said Harry, smiling sweetly. "May I interrupt you for a few moments?"

"You may," replied her husband, speaking for her. "Go on, Mr. Goslett. Do not hurry yourself, pray. We are glad to see you"—he cleared his throat—"very glad, indeed."

"I came to say," he went on, still addressing the lady, "that I am a comparatively idle man; that is, for the moment I have no work, and am undecided about my movements, and that, if I can be of any help in the preparation of the case, you may command my services. Of course, Lady Davenant, everybody knows the importance of your labors and of his lordship's, and the necessity of a clear statement of your case."

Lady Davenant replied with a cry like a sea-gull. "Oh! his lordship's labors, indeed! Yes, Mr. Goslett, pretty labors! Day after day goes on—I don't care, Timothy—I don't care who knows it—day after day goes on, and we get no farther. Four months and two weeks gone of the time, and the case not even written out yet."

"What time?" asked Harry.

"The time that nephew Nathaniel gave us to prove our claim. He found the money for our passage; he promised us six dollars a week for six months. In six months, he said, we should find whether our claim was allowed or not. There it was, and we were welcome for six months. Only six weeks left, and he goes to sleep!"

"But, Lady Davenant—only six weeks! It is impossible—you cannot send in a claim and get it acknowledged in six weeks. Why, such claims may drag on for years before a committee of the House of Lords."

"He wastes all the time; he has got no ambition: he goes to sleep when he ought to be waking. If we have to go home again, with nothing done, it will be because he is so lazy. Shame upon you, obstinate old man! Oh! lazy and sleepy old man!" She shook her finger at him in so terrifying a manner that he was fain to clutch at the arms of the chair, and his teeth chattered.

"Aurelia Tucker," her ladyship went on, warming to her work as she thought of her wrongs—"Aurelia Tucker always said that, lord or no lord, my husband was too lazy to stand up for his rights. Everybody in Canaan City knew that he was too lazy. She said that if she was me, and trying to get the family title, she wouldn't go across the water to ask for it, but she would make the American Minister in London tell the British Government that they would just have to grant it, whether they liked it or not, and that a plain American citizen was to take his place in their House of Lords. Otherwise, she said, let the Minister tell that Mr. Gladstone that Canada would be annexed. That's fine talkin', but as for me I want things done friendly, an' I don't want to see my husband walkin' into his proper place in Westminster with Stars and Stripes flyin' over his head and a volunteer fire brigade band playin' 'Hail, Columbia,' before him. No. I said that justice was to be got in the old country, and we only had to cross over and ask for it. Then nephew Nathaniel said that he didn't expect much more justice was to be expected in England than in New Hampshire. And that what you can't always get in a free country isn't always got where there's lords and bishops and a queen. But we might try if we liked for six months, and he would find the dollars for that time. Now there's only six weeks left, and we haven't even begun to ask for that justice."

"Clara Martha," said his lordship, "I've been thinking the matter over, and I've come to the conclusion that Aurelia Tucker is a sensible woman. Let us go home again, and send the case to the Minister. Let us frighten them."

"It does not seem bad advice," said Harry. "Hold a meeting in Canaan City, and promise the British Lion that he shall be whipped into a cocked hat unless you get your rights. Make a national thing of it."

"No!" She stamped her foot, and became really terrible. "We are here, and we will demand our rights on the spot. If the Minister likes to take up the case, he may; if not, we will fight our own battles. But oh! Mr. Goslett, it's a dreadful hard thing for a woman and a stranger to do all the fightin' while her husband goes to sleep."

"Can't you keep awake till you have stated your case?" asked Harry. "Come, old boy, you can take it out in slumber afterward; and if you go on sleeping till the case is decided, I expect you will have a good long refreshing rest."

"It was a beautiful morning, Clara Martha," his lordship explained in apology, "quite a warm morning. I didn't know people ever had such warm weather in England. And somehow it reminded me of Canaan City in July. When I think of Canaan, my dear, I always feel sleepy. There was a garden, Mr. Goslett, and trees and flowers, at the back of the schoolhouse. And a bee came in. I didn't know there were bees in England. While I listened to that bee, bummin' around most the same as if he was in a free republic, I began to think of home, Clara Martha. That is all."

"Was it the bee," she asked with asperity, "that drew your handkerchief over your head?"

"Clara Martha," he replied with a little hesitation, "the bee was a stranger to me. He was not like one of our New Hampshire bees. He had never seen me before. Bees sting strangers."

Harry interrupted what promised to be the beginning of another lovers' quarrel, to judge by the twitchings of those thin shoulders and the frowning of those beadlike eyes.

"Lady Davenant," he said, "let us not waste the time in recrimination; accept my services. Let me help you to draw up the statement of your case."

This was something to the purpose: with a last reproachful glance upon her husband, her ladyship collected the papers and put them into the hands of her new assistant.

"I'm sure," she said, "it's more 'n kind of you, Mr. Goslett. Here are all the papers. Mind, there isn't the least doubt about it, not the shadow of a doubt; there never was a claim so strong and clear. Timothy Clitheroe Davenant is as much Lord Davenant by right of lawful descent, as—as—you are your father's son."

Harry spent the morning with the papers spread before him, arranging the case. Lord Davenant, now undisturbed, slept quietly in his arm-chair. Her ladyship left them alone.

About half-past twelve the sleeping claimant awoke and rubbed his eyes. "I have had a most refreshing slumber, Mr. Goslett," he yawned; "a man who is married wants it. Sometimes it is what we shall do when we get the title confirmed; sometimes it's why we haven't made out our case yet; sometimes it's why I don't go and see the Queen myself; sometimes it is how we shall crow over Aurelia Tucker when we are established in our rights ... but, whatever it is, it is never a quiet night. I think, Mr. Goslett, that if she'd only hold her tongue and go to sleep, I might make headway with that case in the morning."

"It seems straightforward enough," said Harry. "I can draw up the thing for you without any trouble. And then you must find out the best way to bring your claim before the House of Lords."

"Put it into the post-office, addressed to the Queen," suggested the claimant.

"No—not quite that, I think," said Harry. "There's only one weak point in the case."

"I knew you'd find out the weak point. She won't allow there's any weak point at all. Says it's clear from beginning to end."

"So it is, if you make an admission."

"Well, sir, what is that admission? Let us make it at once, and go on. Nothing can be fairer; we are quite prepared to meet you half-way with that admission."

His lordship spoke as if conferring an immense advantage upon an imaginary opponent.

"I do not mind," he said, "anybody else finding out the weak point, because then I can tackle him. What vexes me, Mr. Goslett, is to find out that weak point myself. Because then there is nobody to argue it out with, and it is like cold water running down the back, and it keeps a man awake."

"As for your admission——" said Harry, laughing.

"Well, sir, what is it?"

"Why, of course, you have to admit, unless you can prove it, that this Timothy Clitheroe Davenant, wheelwright, was the Honorable Timothy Clitheroe Davenant, only son of Lord Davenant."

His lordship was silent for a while.

"Do you think sir, that the Queen will see this weak point?"

"I am quite sure that her advisers will."

"And do you think—hush, Mr. Goslett, let us whisper. Do you think that the Queen will refuse to give us the title because of this weak point? Hush! she may be outside." He meant his wife, not Her Majesty.

"A committee of the House of Lords most undoubtedly may refuse to consider your claim proved."

His lordship nodded his head in consideration of this possibility. Then he laughed gently and rubbed his hands.

"It would be rough at first. That is so, for certain, sure. There would be sleepless nights. And Aurelia Tucker would laugh. Clara Martha would——" he shuddered. "Wal, if we hev to go home without our title, I should be resigned. When a man is sixty years of age, sir, and, though born to greatness, not brought up accordin' to his birth, he can't always feel like settin' in a row with a crown upon his head; and though I wouldn't own up before Clara Martha, I doubt whether the British peers would consider my company quite an honor to the Upper House. Though a plain citizen of the United States, sir, is as good as any lord that lives."

"Better," said Harry. "He is much better."

"He is, Mr. Goslett, he is. In the land where the Bird of Freedom——"

"Hush, my lord. You forget that you are a British peer. No spread-eagle for you."

Lord Davenant sighed.

"It is difficult," he said, "and I suppose there's no more loyal citizens than us of Canaan City."

"Well, how are we to connect the wheelwright Timothy with the Honorable Timothy who was supposed to be drowned?"

"There is his age, and there is his name. You've got those, Mr. Goslett. And then, as we agreed before, we will agree to that little admission."

"But if everybody does not agree?"

"There is also the fact that we were always supposed to be heirs to something in the old country."

"I am afraid that is not enough. There is this great difficulty: Why should a young Englishman, the heir to a title and a great property, settle down in America and practise a handicraft?"

"Wal, sir, I can't rightly say. My grandfather carried that secret with him. And if you'll oblige me, sir, you'll tell her ladyship that we're agreed upon that little admission which makes the connection complete. It will be time enough to undeceive her when the trouble begins. As for Aurelia Tucker, why——" here he smiled sweetly. "If I know Clara Martha aright, she is quite able to tackle Aurelia by herself."

This was the way in which the conduct of the Great Davenant Case fell into the hands of a mere working-man.