t. The five hundred
pounds are here."

He handed a little packet across to Rochester, who slipped it
carelessly into his pocket.

"This is romance indeed!" he declared, with something of the old
banter in his tone. "You are worse than the industrious apprentice.
Have I, by chance, the pleasure of speaking to one of the world's
masters--a millionaire?"

The young man laughed. His laugh, at any rate, was not unpleasant.

"No!" he said. "I don't suppose that I am even wealthy, as the world
reckons wealth. I have succeeded to a certain extent, although I came
very, very near to disaster. I have made a little money, and I can
make more when it is necessary."

"Your commercial instincts," Rochester remarked, "have not been
thoroughly aroused, then?"

The young man smiled.

"Do I need to tell you," he asked, "that great wealth was not among
the things I saw that night?"

"That was a marvelous motor-car in which you passed me," remarked the
other.

"It belongs to the lady," Saton said, "who brought me down from
London."

Rochester nodded.

"It will be interesting to me," he remarked, "later on, to hear
something of your adventures. To judge by your appearance, and your
repayment of that small amount of money, you have prospered."

"One hates the word," Saton murmured, with a sudden frown upon his
forehead. "I suppose I must admit that I have been fortunate to some
extent. I am able to repay my debt to you."

"That," Rochester interrupted, "is a trifle. It was not worth
considering. In fact I am rather disappointed that you have paid me
back."

"I was forced to do it," Saton answered. "One cannot accept alms."

Rochester eyed his visitor a little thoughtfully.

"A platitude merely," he said. "One accepts alms every day, every
moment of the day. One goes about the world giving and receiving. It
is a small point of view which reckons gold as the only means of
exchange."

The young man bowed.

"I am corrected," he said. "Yet you must admit that there is something
different in the obligation which is created by money."

"Mine, I fear," Rochester answered, "is not an analytic mind. A blunt
regard to truth has always been one of my characteristics. Therefore,
at the risk of indelicacy, I am going on to ask you a question. I
found you on the hillside, a discontented, miserable youth, and I did
for you something which very few sane people would have been inclined
even to consider. Years afterwards--it must be