d, and indignant. He lifted the candles
away from the table, and then put them back again, too much excited to
think of the moth. "Your arrival must have been very sudden," he said,
throwing himself into the nearest chair. "I was very much surprised by
your message. It looks inhospitable, but I see you make yourself quite
at home--"

"Perfectly," said the elder brother, resuming his cigar. "I always do.
It is much more agreeable for all parties. But I don't know how it is
that a man's younger brothers are always so rapid and unreasonable in
their movements. Instead of saving that unhappy insect, you have
precipitated its fate. Poor thing--and it had no soul," said the
intruder, with a tone of pathos. The scene altogether was a curious
one. Snugly sheltered from the draught, but enjoying the coolness of
the atmosphere which it produced, lay the figure on the sofa at
perfect ease and leisure, with the light shed brightly upon him, on
his shining beard, the white cool expanse of linen at his breast, and
the bright hues of his dressing-gown. Near him, fatigued, dusty,
indignant, and perplexed, sat the Curate, with the night air playing
upon him, and moving his disordered hair on his forehead; while at the
other end of the room hovered the stranger who had followed Mr
Wentworth--a broad, shabby, indistinct figure, who stood with his back
to the others, looking vaguely out of the window into the darkness.
Over these two the night air blew with no small force between the
open windows, making the candles on the centre table flare wildly, and
flapping the white tablecloth. An occasional puff from the cigar
floated now and then across the room. It was a pause before the storm.

"I was about to say," said the Perpetual Curate, "that though it might
seem inhospitable, the first thing I had to ask was, What brought you
here--and why did you send for me?"

"Don't be abrupt, pray," said Jack, taking his cigar from his mouth,
and slightly waving the hand that held it. "Don't let us plunge into
business all at once. You bring a sense of fatigue into the room with
you, and the atmosphere was delightful a little while ago. I flatter
myself I know how to enjoy the cool of the evening. Suppose you were
to--ah--refresh yourself a little," he said, with a disapproving
glance at his brother's dusty boots, "before we begin to talk of our
affairs."

The Curate of St Roque's got up from his chair, feeling that he had an
unchristian inclinati