his
inheritance he had been living in a stress of excitement that had given
him a fortitude half unnatural; now this support seemed to fail, and
with it went the power to bear.

The remedy worked well; at eight o'clock he found himself very tired,
very hungry, unexpectedly composed. He turned into a little restaurant
to dine. The place was crowded, and rather shamefacedly (as is the
national way) he sat down at a small table opposite a girl in a
light-blue blouse and a very big hat, who was eating risotto and
drinking lager beer. She assumed an air of exaggerated primness and
gentility, keeping her eyes down toward her plate, and putting very
small quantities into her mouth at a time. Glad of distraction, Harry
watched her with amusement. At last she glanced up stealthily.

"A fine evening," he said, as he started on his chop.

"Very seasonable," she began in a mincing tone; but suddenly she broke
off to exclaim in a voice and accent more natural and spontaneous, "Good
gracious, I've seen you before, haven't I?"

"I'm not aware that I ever had the honor," said Harry.

"Well, I know your face, anyhow." She was looking at him and searching
her memory. "You're not at the halls, are you?"

"No, I'm not at the halls."

"Well, I do know your face--Why, yes, I've seen your face in the papers.
I shall get it in a minute now--don't you tell me." She studied him with
determination. Harry ate away in contented amusement. "Yes, you're the
man who--why, yes, you're Tristram?"

"That's right. I'm Tristram."

"Well, to think of that! Meeting you! Well, I shall have something to
tell the girls. Why, a friend of mine wrote down to the country,
special, for your photo."

"That must have proved a disappointment, I'm afraid. The romance was
better than the hero."

"You may say romance!" she conceded heartily. "To be a lord and----!"
She leant forward. "I say, how do you get your living now?"

"Gone into the building-trade," he answered.

"You surprise me!" The observation was evidently meant to be extremely
civil. "But there, it isn't so much what your job is as having some job.
That's what I say."

"I wish I always said--and thought--things as sensible;" and he took
courage to offer her another glass of lager. She accepted with a slight
recrudescence of primness; but her eyes did not leave him now. "I never
did!" he heard her murmur as she raised her glass. "Well, here's luck to
you, sir! (He had been a lord even if he w