utiny, and he had his fists clenched tightly as if he were
meditating some sort of revenge upon the innocent Mr. Wallis for the
pain he was giving her in talking about the one-armed man.

"A king of finance is a man who has a natural gift for managing money
and making it increase. I should not wonder if you develop a cleverness
in that way yourself when you are a little older," said Mr. Wallis, who
was a keen student of human nature and had already amused himself by
mentally forecasting the future of the seven.

"Perhaps I shall," answered Don stolidly. "Anyhow I don't mean to be
poor when I grow up, for I shall just go without things until I get a
lot of money saved, and Mr. Runciman used to say that money made money,
and if a man could save one hundred pounds the next hundred would save
itself."

"Well done, Mr. Runciman, that is sound philosophy!" said Mr. Wallis,
and was going to expound the art of money making still further when
there came a sudden interruption from Billykins.

"Can't you talk about something else, please? You have made Nealie cry
by going on so about that one-armed man. She never can bear to talk
about them, and you didn't see that she did not like it," he said in a
shrill and very aggrieved tone.

"Miss Plumstead, I am truly sorry. I had no idea that I was saying
anything to pain you. Please forgive me!" said Mr. Wallis in a shocked
tone, for Nealie's face was covered with her handkerchief, and by the
heave of her shoulders it was easy to see that she was crying bitterly.

"Oh, it is nothing, quite nothing, and I am very silly!" she said
nervously. "But somehow I never can bear to see men who have lost their
limbs. It is so sad and hopeless, because, of course, they can never be
the same again, and life must be so very sad."

Mr. Wallis laughed in a cheerful manner. "I don't think that you would
consider Reginald Baxter a very sad man if you knew him. As I said
before, he looks upon the loss of his arm as his entrance into freedom,
and it would be hard to find a happier man, I should think. But let us
go in and find some tea, and think no more about such matters."

Tea was such a merry function that no one had much time to notice that
there was something wrong with Nealie, although she was so very quiet
that Rupert asked her once if she did not feel well.

"Oh yes, I am quite well, thank you; only perhaps a little tired," she
replied, smiling at him in a rather wistful fashion; and then,