cheap. Some got a wintry nod, others a summer
smile. One high official who represented big interests got two
minutes' talk and a drink. Then Julian jumped into his mule-cart,
and drove away. He reflected with satisfaction on the quantity
and quality of the greetings that morning. Meanwhile his Cape-boy
coachman whipped up the mules and took him along the main street
in style.

Julian had not been in Rosebery for six months now. He had made
great strides in those months the most momentous of his life.
From being a coming man he had reached the summit of arrival. He
had arrived without a doubt. His company's shares had risen
super-excellently. He had made a big coup at the end of last
year. The fullness of time had now brought to him the prospect of
another. As he whirled on into Suburbia, he fell to considering
relative prosperities. He set names to the houses he was passing.
No, he wouldn't change with any one of their owners. Not one
stood better just now. Not one was more the man of the moment. He
could give points and a beating to how many!

He drove through a gate and up a drive. He was at home again. His
house had been enlarged and re-decorated since he was last there.
It looked solidly prosperous. Its second floor shouted 'money'
in a country where most houses could boast no first floor.
Its critics might have called its colors harrowing and its
architecture the reverse of inspired, but Julian cared not a
jot for that sort of up-in-the-air criticism. He sat down to
breakfast with a thankful heart, and made himself quite amiable
to Tommy Bates.

Tommy Bates was five years older than Julian, and had acted as
his Secretary these two years past. He had small eyes set in a
rather big pasty face. His goatee beard was trim, but scarcely
pleasing.

Julian got through his letters at breakfast and after, breakfast
with Tommy's help. Amongst the letters was one from Mount
Pleasant Mission enclosing a card. 'Hunter's mad,' said Julian
crossly. He tore up the envelope viciously, but he did not tear
up the card it contained. He placed that in his pocket-book
carefully. Tommy looked at him in interrogation, but Julian was
not communicative.

After they had discussed a business letter or two, and had a
drink together, Julian started for the Club. He made himself
agreeable to one or two, and got a deal of pleasure out of
snubbing another. Then he gathered some important news from a
business acquaintance. It was great ne