his principles upon any man
but hopes sincerely that this one will say No; and when I am informed
that he promised our bootboy a rapid and inevitable descent to a state
of infamy and destitution upon discovering no more than the fag end of
a cigarette behind his ear, then I am tempted to recall an incident of
fifteen years back, lest it be forgotten that Thompson is a man like
ourselves who has known, and even owned, a human weakness.

Dinner had begun on that eventful evening at 7.30 P.M., and it was
drawing within sight of a conclusion, that is, the sweet had been
eaten and the savoury was overdue, at 9.45 P.M. Four of us had trailed
thus far through this critical meal: my father, a usually patient
widower who was becoming more than restless; the Robinsons, never a
jocund brace of guests, who were by now positively sullen, and myself
who, being but a boy--of twenty odd years and having little enough to
say to a woman of fifty-five and her still more antique husband, had
long ago settled down to a determined silence. Meanwhile Thompson,
then in his first year of service with us, tarried mysteriously heaven
knows where.

The intervals of preparation before each course had been growing
longer and longer and the pause before the savoury threatened to be
infinite. My father commanded me to ring the bell severely. Longing to
escape from the table I did so with emphasis, and my ring summoned (to
our surprise, for we were not aware of her existence in the house) a
slightly soiled kitchen-maid.

"Where is Thompson?" asked my father sternly.

"At the telephone, Sir," stammered the maid.

"The telephone!" cried my father. "Whatever is the matter?"

The maid started to mumble an explanation, burst into tears and fled
in alarm, never again to emerge from the back regions. My father
commanded me to the bell again, but as I rose Thompson entered. He was
even then a stately and dignified person, and it was with a measured
tread and slow that he advanced upon my father.

"Will you please serve the savoury at once?" said my father.

"I am afraid it cannot be done, Sir," said Thompson. "May I explain,
Sir?"

"What is the meaning of this?" asked my father, fearing some terrible
disaster below stairs, and sacrificing politeness to his guests with
the hope of saving lives in the kitchen.

Thompson cleared his throat.--"For some weeks, Sir," he said, "I have
been much worried with financial affairs. Like a fool I have invested