is
just like my luck to be out of the way when there is a chance of a good
thing, though, after all, I don't know if the wisest plan would not be
to sell everything one had, and put the money in the bank--eh, Druce?
Ten and a half per cent! Where do you get your knowledge, Miss Mary?"

"Oh, I see things in the newspapers, and I hear the pater talking to his
friends. Don't call me `Miss Mary' please, it sounds far too quiet and
proper for me. I am never called anything but Mollie, except when I
overspend my allowance, and mother feels it her duty to scold me. Are
you on the Stock Exchange, Mr Melland? What sort of business is it
which you find so attractive?"

"I am afraid you would not be much wiser if I tried to explain. We are
what is called `brokers'; but there are an endless variety of businesses
under the same name. I have nothing, however, to do with `Mauds' and
`Christinas'!"

"Neither have I," volunteered Victor smilingly, "To tell the truth, I
have no money to invest, Briefs don't come my way, and I am at present
occupied listening to more fortunate fellows, and thinking how much
better I could plead myself. It palls at times, but I am fond of the
profession, and have no wish to change it."

"No," said Mollie reflectively. "The wigs _are_ becoming!" and when the
two young men leant back in their chairs and roared with laughter, she
blushed and pouted, and looked so pretty that it did one good to see
her.

The three earlier comers had finished their meal by this time, but they
sat still until Jack had disposed of the toast and marmalade which makes
the last breakfast course of every self-respecting Briton; then they
rose one after the other, strolled over to the open window, and faced
the question of the day--

"What shall we do?"

It was Ruth who spoke, and at the sound of her words the shadow came
back to Jack's brow.

"Yes, what shall we do? Think of it--three months--twelve weeks--
eighty-four separate days to lounge away with the same question on your
lips! I'd rather be sentenced to hard labour at once. Life is not
worth living without work. I'd rather be a clerk on sixty pounds a year
than stagnate as a country squire."

"You would be a very bad squire if you did stagnate!" cried Mollie
spiritedly, throwing back her little head, and looking up at him with a
flash of the grey eyes. "You would have your tenants to look after, and
your property to keep in order, and the whole villag