That's what you mean--a vulgar dog! but don't you see that's what
diminished fortune must bring you to? You 'll have to live with vulgar
dogs. It's not only coarse cookery, but coarse company a man comes
to. Ay, and there are people will tell you that both are useful--as
alteratives, as the doctors call them."

It was a happy accident that made him lengthen out the third syllable of
the word, which amused Nelly so much that she laughed outright

"Can you tell us where is Cattaro, Mr. Cutbill?" asked Bramleigh, eager
that the other should not notice his sister's laughter.

"I haven't the faintest notion; but Bollard, the messenger, is eating
his luncheon at the station. I 'll run down and ask him." And without
waiting for a reply, he seized his hat and hurried away.

"One must own he is good-natured," said Nelly, "but he does make us pay
somewhat smartly for it. His wholesome truths are occasionally hard to
swallow."

"As he told us, Nelly, we must accept these things as part of our
changed condition. Poverty would n't be such a hard thing to bear if
it only meant common food and coarse clothing; but it implies scores of
things that are far less endurable."

While they thus talked, Cutbill had hurried down to the station, and
just caught the messenger as he was taking his seat in the train. Two
others--one bound for Russia and one for Greece--were already seated in
the compartment, smoking their cigars with an air of quiet indolence,
like men making a trip by a river steamer.

"I say, Bollard," cried Cutbill, "where is Cattaro?"

"Don't know; is he a tenor?"

"It's a place; a consulate somewhere or other."

"Never heard of it Have you, Digby?"

"It sounds like Calabria, or farther south."

"I know it," said the third man. "It's a vile hole; it's on the eastern
shore of the Adriatic. I was wrecked there once in an Austrian Lloyd's
steamer, and caught a tertian fever before I could get away. There was
a fellow there, a vice-consul they called him. He was dressed in
sheepskins, and, I believe, lived by wrecking. He stole my watch, and
would have carried away my portmanteau, but I was waiting for him with
my revolver, and winged him."

"Did nothing come of it?" asked another.

"They pensioned him, I think. I 'm not sure; but I think they gave him
twenty pounds a year. I know old Kepsley stopped eight pounds out of my
salary for a wooden leg for the rascal. There's the whistle; take care,
sir, you'll come to