o. They don't come to see me,
though. I expect Janie's the attraction. You remember my girl,
Southend?"

"Well, I suppose Blent's worth nine or ten thousand a year still?" The
progress of Lord Southend's thoughts was obvious.

"H'm. Seven or eight, I should think, as it's managed now. It's a nice
place, though, and would go a good bit better in proper hands."

"Paterfamilias considering?"

"I don't quite make the young fellow out. He's got a good opinion of
himself, I fancy." Iver laughed a little. "Well, we shall see," he
ended.

"Not a bad thing to be Lady Tristram of Blent, you know, Iver. That's
none of your pinchbeck. The real thing--though, as I say, young Harry's
only got it by the skin of his teeth. Eh, Neeld?"

Mr Neeld laid down his napkin and pushed back his chair.

"Sit still, man. We've nearly finished, and we'll all have a cup of
coffee together and a cigar."

Misfortunes accumulated, for Neeld hated tobacco. But he was anxious to
be scrupulously polite to Iver, and thus to deaden the pangs of
conscience. Resigned though miserable, he went with them to the
smoking-room. Colonel Wilmot Edge looked up from the _Army and Navy
Gazette_, and glanced curiously at the party as they passed his table.
Why were these old fellows reviving old stories? They were better left
at rest. The Colonel groaned as he went back to his newspaper.

Happily, in the smoking-room the talk shifted to less embarrassing
subjects. Iver told of his life and doings, and Neeld found himself
drawn to the man: he listened with interest and appreciation; he seemed
brought into touch with life; he caught himself sighing over the retired
inactive nature of his own occupations. He forgave Iver the hoardings
about the streets; he could not forgive himself the revenge he had taken
for them. Iver and Southend spoke of big schemes in which they had been
or were engaged together--legitimate enterprises, good for the nation as
well as for themselves. How had he, a useless old fogy, dared to
blackball a man like Iver? An occasional droll glance from Southend
emphasized his compunction.

"I see you've got a new thing coming out, Neeld," said Southend, after a
pause in the talk. "I remember old Cholderton very well. He was a
starchy old chap, but he knew his subjects. Makes rather heavy reading,
I should think, eh?"

"Not all of it, not by any means all of it," Neeld assured him. "He
doesn't confine himself to business matters."

"Still,