elf in a corner of the balcony and
put a leading question:

"You say you have lived abroad. Where does that mean? India?"

"India mostly; but I have done a lot of wandering about."

"Are you by any chance a soldier?"

"Thank Heaven, no!"

She was both startled and amused by the vehemence of his denial, and
looked at him curiously with her wide, grey eyes.

"Why this fervour? Most men would consider it a compliment to be asked
such a question. Do you despise soldiers so heartily?"

"No, I don't. As the times go, they are a necessary evil, and there are
fine fellows among them--splendid fellows, one ought to be grateful to
them for their self-sacrifice; but for my own part I'm unspeakably
thankful to have escaped. Think of spending all one's life preparing
for, playing at, a need which may never arise--which one _hopes_ may
never arise. I couldn't endure it. Give me active service the whole
time--the more active the better."

"Service in what capacity? As a--"

"Oh, I have no profession. I am just an ordinary business man--buying
and selling, and watching the markets, like the rest."

"Humph!" Vanna pursed her lips with a militant air. "I think a very
good case might be made for the soldier _versus_ the merchant. He
works, or waits, for the good of his country. There is precious little
to be made out of it from a personal point of view. A merchant's aim is
entirely selfish. He is absorbed in piling up his own fortune."

Mr Gloucester laughed.

"Oh, you are too down on the poor merchants, Miss Strangeways. They
have their own share in helping on the country, and it's not every man
who can get a fortune to pile. I can't, for one. The faculty of
gaining money is as inherent as the writing of poetry. Some fellows
like myself can never attain to it." He held out his right hand,
pointing smilingly at the hollow palm. "Look at that. Palmists would
tell you that with that hand I shall never `hold money.' The day may
come when I should be thankful to exchange my fortune for the soldier's
shilling a day."

Vanna did not reply. She was looking at that hollowed palm with
puckered, thoughtful glance. "Palmist!" she repeated slowly,
"fortune-telling! It's not often one hears a man quoting such an
authority; but you have lived in the East. I suppose that unconsciously
alters the point of view. India is the land of--what should one call
it?--superstition, mysticism, the occult. It is a subjec