an be called a change. Your
waist used to be bigger, you know."

"Ah, George, I drank beer in those days; it is one of things of which I
have lived to see the folly. In fact, there are not many things of which
I have not lived to see the folly."

"Except living itself, I suppose?"

"Exactly--except living. I have no wish to follow the example of our
poor cousins," he answered with a sigh, "to whose considerate behaviour,
however," he added, brightening, "we owe our present improved position."
Then came a pause.

"Fourteen years is a long time, George; you must have had a rough time
of it."

"Yes, pretty rough. I have seen a good deal of irregular service, you
know."

"And never got anything out of it, I suppose?"

"Oh, yes; I have got my bread and butter, which is all I am worth."

Sir Eustace looked at his brother doubtfully through his eyeglass. "You
are modest," he said; "that does not do. You must have a better opinion
of yourself if you want to get on in the world."

"I don't want to get on. I am quite content to earn a living, and I am
modest because I have seen so many better men fare worse."

"But now you need not earn a living any more. What do you propose to do?
Live in town? I can set you going in a very good lot. You will be quite
a lion with that hole in your cheek--by the way, you must tell me the
story. And then, you see, if anything happens to me you stand in for the
title and estates. That will be quite enough to float you."

Bottles writhed uneasily in his chair. "Thank you, Eustace; but really
I must ask you--in short, I don't want to be floated or anything of the
sort. I would rather go back to South Africa and my volunteer corps. I
would indeed. I hate strangers, and society, and all that sort of thing.
I'm not fit for it like you."

"Then what do you mean to do--get married and live in the country?"

Bottles coloured a little through his sun-tanned skin--a fact that did
not escape the eyeglass of his observant brother. "No, I am not going to
get married, certainly not."

"By the way," said Sir Eustace carelessly, "I saw your old flame, Lady
Croston, yesterday, and told her you were coming home. She makes a
charming widow."

"_What!_" ejaculated his brother, slowly raising himself out of his
chair in astonishment. "Is her husband dead?"

"Dead? Yes, died a year ago, and a good riddance too. He appointed me
one of his executors; I am sure I don't know why, for we never liked
each