catch a distinct
vision of his retreating figure.

She beheld him, when he was in the street, turn for the district where
Major Worrell had his lodgeings. That set her mind moving, and her tears
fell no longer.

Major Worrell was not at home. Dartrey was informed that he might be at
his Club.

At the Club he heard of the major as having gone to London and being
expected down in the afternoon. Colonel Sudley named the train: an early
train; the major was engaged to dine at the Club. Dartrey had information
supplied to him concerning Major Worrell and Captain Marsett, also Mrs.
Marsett. She had a history. Worthy citizens read the description of
history with interest when the halo of Royalty is round it. They may, if
their reading extends, perceive, that it has been the main turbid stream
in old Mammon's train since he threw his bait for flesh. They might ask,
too, whether it is likely to cease to flow while he remains potent. The
lady's history was brief, and bore recital in a Club; came off quite
honourably there. Regarding Major Worrell, the tale of him showed him to
have a pass among men. He managed cleverly to get his pleasures out of a
small income and a 'fund of anecdote.' His reputation indicated an
anecdotist of the table, prevailing in the primitive societies, where the
art of conversing does not come by nature, and is exercised in
monosyllabic undertones or grunts until the narrator's well-masticated
popular anecdote loosens a digestive laughter, and some talk ensues. He
was Marsett's friend, and he boasted of not letting Ned Marsett make a
fool of himself.

Dartrey was not long in shaping the man's character: Worrell belonged to
the male birds of upper air, who mangle what female prey they are
forbidden to devour. And he had Miss Radnor's name: he had spoken her
name at the Club overnight. He had roused a sensation, because of a man
being present, Percy Southweare, who was related to a man as good as
engaged to marry her. The major never fell into a quarrel with sons of
nobles, if he could help it, or there might have been a pretty one.

So Colonel Sudley said.

Dartrey spoke musing: 'I don't know how he may class me; I have an
account to square with him.'

'It won't do in these days, my good friend. Come and cool yourself; and
we'll lunch here. I shan't leave you.'

'By all means. We'll lunch, and walk up to the station, and you will
point him out to me.'

Dartrey stated Major Worrell's offence. Th