ves'. He nodded familiarly to the servant who opened,
stepped on to the mat, and began contorting his legs in order to wipe
the edge of his boot-soles.

"Quite a stranger, sir!" said Martha, bridling, and respectfully aware
of her attractiveness for this friend of the house.

"Yes," he laughed. "Anybody in?"

"Well, sir, I'm afraid Miss Janet and Miss Alicia are out."

"And Mr Tom?"

"Mr Tom's out, sir. He pretty nearly always is now, sir." The fact
was that Tom was engaged to be married, and the servant indicated, by a
scarcely perceptible motion of the chin, that fiances were and ever
would be all the same. "And Mr John and Mr James are out too, sir."
They also were usually out. They were both assisting their father in
business, and sought relief from his gigantic conception of a day's work
by evening diversions at Hanbridge. These two former noisy Liberals had
joined the Hanbridge Conservative Club because it was a club, and had a
billiard-table that could only be equalled at the Five Towns Hotel at
Knype.

"And Mr Orgreave?"

"He's working upstairs, sir. Mrs Orgreave's got her asthma, and so
he's working upstairs."

"Well, tell them I've called." Edwin turned to depart.

"I'm sure Mr Orgreave would like to know you're here, sir," said the
maid firmly. "If you'll just step into the breakfast-room." That maid
did as she chose with visitors for whom she had a fancy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

TWO.

She conducted him to the so-called breakfast-room and shut the door on
him. It was a small chamber behind the drawing-room, and shabbier than
the drawing-room. In earlier days the children had used it for their
lessons and hobbies. And now it was used as a sitting-room when mere
cosiness was demanded by a decimated family. Edwin stooped down and
mended the fire. Then he went to the wall and examined a framed
water-colour of the old Sytch Pottery, which was signed with his
initials. He had done it, aided by a photograph, and by Johnnie
Orgreave in details of perspective, and by dint of preprandial
frequentings of the Sytch, as a gift for Mrs Orgreave. It always
seemed to him to be rather good.

Then he bent to examine bookshelves. Like the hall, the drawing-room,
and the dining-room, this apartment too was plenteously full of
everything, and littered over with the apparatus of various
personalities. Only from habit did Edwin glance at the boo