r many to-morrows
Clankwood had to lament the loss of the gifted Francis Beveridge.

CHAPTER VII.

At sixteen minutes to five Mr Beveridge stood by the side of the Clankwood
Avenue, comfortably wrapped in Dr Escort's fur coat, and smoking with the
greatest relish one of Dr Escott's undeniable cigars.

It was almost dark, the air bit keen, the dim park with its population of
black trees was filled with a frosty, eager stillness. All round the
invisible wall hemmed him in, the ten pounds, seventeen shillings, and
sixpence lay useless in his pocket till that was past, and his one hope
depended on a woman. But Mr Beveridge was an amateur in the sex, and he
smiled complacently as he smoked.

He had waited barely three minutes when the quick clatter of a pair of
horses fell on his ears, and presently the lights of a carriage and pair,
driving swiftly away from Clankwood, raked the drive on either side. As
they rattled up to him he gave a shout to the coachman to stop, and
stepped right in front of the horses. With something that sounded unlike a
blessing, the pair were thrown almost on their haunches to check them in
time. Never stopping to explain, he threw open the door and sprang in; the
coachman, hearing no sound of protest, whipped up again, and Mr Beveridge
found himself rolling through the park of Clankwood in the Countess of
Grillyer's carriage with a very timid little figure by his side. Even in
that moment of triumphant excitement the excellence of his manners was
remarkable: the first thing he said was, "Do you mind smoking?"

In her confusion of mind Lady Alicia could only reply "Oh no," and not
till some time afterwards did she remember that the odour of a cigar was
clinging and the Countess's nose unusually sensitive.

After this first remark he leaned back in silence, gradually filling the
carriage with a blue-grey cloud, and looking out of the windows first on
one side and then on the other. They passed quickly through the lines of
trees and the open spaces of frosty park-land, they drew up at the lodge
for a moment, he heard his prison gates swing open, the harness jingled
and the hoofs began to clatter again, a swift vision of lighted windows
and a man looking on them incuriously swept by, and then they were rolling
over a country road between hedgerows and under the free stars.

It was the Lady Alicia who spoke first.

"I never thought you would really come," sh