rate way he was given to hospitality,--that is to infrequent but,
when the occasion came, to graceful hospitality. Some club, however,
or tavern, or perhaps, in the summer, some river bank would be chosen
as the scene of these festivities. To a few,--if, as suggested,
amidst summer flowers on the water's edge to men and women mixed,--he
would be a courtly and efficient host; for he had the rare gift of
doing such things well.

Hunting was over, and the east wind was still blowing, and a great
portion of the London world was out of town taking its Easter
holiday, when, on an unpleasant morning, Ferdinand Lopez travelled
into the city by the Metropolitan railway from Westminster Bridge. It
was his custom to go thither when he did go,--not daily like a man of
business, but as chance might require, like a capitalist or a man of
pleasure,--in his own brougham. But on this occasion he walked down
to the river side, and then walked from the Mansion House into a
dingy little court called Little Tankard Yard, near the Bank of
England, and going through a narrow dark long passage got into a
little office at the back of a building, in which there sat at a desk
a greasy gentleman with a new hat on one side of his head, who might
perhaps be about forty years old. The place was very dark, and the
man was turning over the leaves of a ledger. A stranger to city
ways might probably have said that he was idle, but he was no doubt
filling his mind with that erudition which would enable him to earn
his bread. On the other side of the desk there was a little boy
copying letters. These were Mr. Sextus Parker,--commonly called Sexty
Parker,--and his clerk. Mr. Parker was a gentleman very well known
and at the present moment favourably esteemed on the Stock Exchange.
"What, Lopez!" said he. "Uncommon glad to see you. What can I do for
you?"

"Just come inside,--will you?" said Lopez. Now within Mr. Parker's
very small office there was a smaller office in which there were
a safe, a small rickety Pembroke table, two chairs, and an old
washing-stand with a tumbled towel. Lopez led the way into this
sanctum as though he knew the place well, and Sexty Parker followed
him.

"Beastly day, isn't it?" said Sexty.

"Yes,--a nasty east wind."

"Cutting one in two, with a hot sun at the same time. One ought to
hybernate at this time of the year."

"Then why don't you hybernate?" said Lopez.

"Business is too good. That's about it. A man has to s