iscrimination; it was the sterling worth, the heart of the man, that he
admired; shallow people stuck at superficial defects of manner; not such
was Sir Winterton. "I trust him as I do myself," he used to say to Lady
Mildmay, and she, in honest joy, posted off with the testimonial to May
Quisante; besides she was eager to seize a chance of throwing out another
hint or two about Quisante's health.

The Alethea, at least, seemed to be going to prove worthy of these
laudations. There really had, it appeared, been some good reason why the
Professor should reconsider his considerations. The invention stood the
test of criticism and experiment; it saved a lot of expense; the idea got
about more and more that it was an uncommonly good thing; the two or
three papers which were inquisitive about the actual views of the
Professor were treated with disdain (one with advertisements also) and
their clamour went almost unnoticed. There was a demand for the shares.
Sir Winterton pointed out to Weston Marchmont what a mistake he had
committed in not accepting the offer of an allotment which had been made
to him.

"The only thing for which I value independent means," said Marchmont, "is
that they relieve me from the necessity of imposing on the public. I
suppose my ancestors did it for me."

Sir Winterton laughed serenely. "We're serving the public," said he. Then
he remembered the new man of business in him, and added, with a slyness
obvious from across the street, "Oh, and ourselves too, ourselves too, I
admit that."

"And you, Jimmy?" asked Marchmont, turning to him; they made a group of
three at the club.

"I don't think Quisante'll go far wrong," said Jimmy. "You know Dick's
gone in too?"

"What, after the Crusade?"

"This is another sort of game," said Jimmy, with a grim smile; he had
gone in after both the Crusade and the Sinnett affair. He turned to Sir
Winterton; "Old Foster of Henstead's in it too; he's pretty wide-awake,
you know."

"Oh, we Henstead fellows have heads on our shoulders," said Sir
Winterton, but he looked a little less happy; he had never acquitted
Foster with the confidence that Quisante had won from him.

"And you'll grow rich against your wedding, Jimmy?" asked Marchmont.

Again Jimmy smiled. The wedding was near now, and the next day he was
going to Ashwood to meet Fanny Gaston.

"You're going to Dick's on Friday, aren't you?" he said to Marchmont.

"I believe I am."

"Ah, then you shall he