is put in the shade, that is if he cares
to exert himself. I tell you Leicester could be a great man, if he only
had the motive power."

"But we need have no fear. When did you say he was invited to Mr.
Castlemaine's?"

"Next Thursday week."

"I wish we were invited too," said Sprague.

"Who knows?--perhaps we may be."

As a matter of fact they were, and when the night of the dinner came
round they both found themselves sitting not only in close proximity to
Leicester, but also to Miss Olive Castlemaine. For this was one of
those rare occasions when John Castlemaine gave a dinner-party.

Radford Leicester sat beside Olive Castlemaine, and all admitted that
they were the most striking-looking couple in the room. Had they met in
some brilliant society throng, they would have been just as noteworthy.
Moreover, this was one of those nights when Radford Leicester found
himself in a mood to exert himself, while Olive Castlemaine, as hostess,
naturally desired to be agreeable.

For the first part of the dinner but little of note was said. The
conversation passed from one topic to another. Motor-cars, a continental
exhibition, the latest new novel of note, and the political situation
were each discussed in their turn. Society scandal was not indulged in,
and the sayings and doings of actresses and music-hall singers were not
to be mentioned. Thus, when one comes to think about it, the
conversation was of a considerably higher standard than that often
indulged in at society functions. But then it must be remembered that
John Castlemaine was a middle-class man, who professed the Christian
religion, and the atmosphere of his house was not favourable to "smart"
talk.

Indeed, if the truth must be told, Radford Leicester grew rather restive
under it. He noticed, too, that both Sprague and Purvis were watching
him closely, and listening to all he had to say. He instinctively knew
of what they were thinking, and more, he felt certain that if his host
and hostess were aware of the circumstances which led to his being their
guest that night, a servant would have shown him to the door. Moreover,
although he was not afraid of the outward effect of taking much wine at
dinner, he was obliged to be abstemious. Olive Castlemaine had heard of
his weakness, and would doubtless take note of the number of times the
waiter filled his glass.

Presently, when discussing politics, someone remarked on the amount of
self-sacrifice which ha