ort Wager's children? They're
relatives of ours, unfortunately. But I wanted to tell you that I'm
going down to Waterbury.' He looked at his watch. 'Thirteen
minutes--shall I do it? There's a good local paper, the _Free Press_,
and I have the offer of part-ownership. I shall buy, if possible, and
live in the country for a year or two, to pick up my health. Can't say
I love London. Might get into country journalism for good. Curse this
torment!'

In Tottenham Court Road, Rolfe bade his friend goodbye, and the cab
rushed on.

CHAPTER 2

It was half past ten when Rolfe knocked at the door in Hamilton
Terrace. He learnt from the servant that Mr. Carnaby was at home, and
had company. In the room known as the library, four men sat smoking;
their voices pealed into the hall as the door opened, and a boisterous
welcome greeted the newcomer's appearance.

'Come to condole?' cried Hugh, striding forward with his
man-of-the-wide-world air, and holding out his big hand. 'No doubt
they're having a high old time at the club. Does it please them? Does
it tickle them?'

'Why, naturally. There's the compensation, my boy--you contribute to
the gaiety of your friends.'

Carnaby was a fair example of the well-bred, well-fed Englishman--tall,
brawny, limber, not uncomely, with a red neck, a powerful jaw, and a
keen eye. Something more of repose, of self-possession, and a slightly
more intellectual brow, would have made him the best type of
conquering, civilising Briton. He came of good family, but had small
inheritance; his tongue told of age-long domination; his physique and
carriage showed the horseman, the game-stalker, the nomad. Hugh had
never bent over books since the day when he declined the university and
got leave to join Colonel Bosworth's exploring party in the Caucasus.
After a boyhood of straitened circumstances, he profited by a skilful
stewardship which allowed him to hope for some seven hundred a year;
his elder brother, Miles, a fine fellow, who went into the army,
pinching himself to benefit Hugh and their sister Ruth. Miles was now
Major Carnaby, active on the North-West Frontier. Ruth was wife of a
missionary in some land of swamps; doomed by climate, but of spirit
indomitable. It seemed strange that Hugh, at five and thirty, had done
nothing particular. Perhaps his income explained it--too small for
traditional purposes, just large enough to foster indolence. For Hugh
had not even followed up his promis