often angered him, though for some reason he had no objection
whatever to servility in a nice-looking maid--indeed, rather enjoyed
it. But now, in the person of Joseph, he saw that there were human or
half-human beings born to self-abasement, and that, if their destiny
was to be fulfilled, valetry was a necessary institution. He had no
pity for Joseph, no shame in employing him. He scorned Joseph; and yet
his desire, as a man-about-town, to keep Joseph's esteem, was in no
way diminished!

"Shall I prepare your bath, sir?" asked Joseph, stationed in a supple
attitude by the side of the bed.

Edward Henry was visited by an idea.

"Have you had yours?" he demanded like a pistol-shot.

Edward Henry saw that Sir Nicholas had never asked that particular
question.

"No, sir."

"Not had your bath, man! What on earth do you mean by it? Go and have
your bath at once!"

A faint sycophantic smile lightened the amazed features of Joseph. And
Edward Henry thought: "It's astonishing, all the same, the way they
can read their masters. This chap has seen already that I'm a card.
And yet how?"

"Yes, sir," said Joseph.

"Have your bath in the bathroom here. And be sure to leave everything
in order for me."

"Yes, sir."

As soon as Joseph had gone Edward Henry jumped out of bed and
listened. He heard the discreet Joseph respectfully push the bolt of
the bathroom door. Then he crept with noiseless rapidity to the small
bedroom and was aware therein of a lack of order and of ventilation.
The rich and distinguished overcoat was hanging on the brass knob at
the foot of the bed. He seized it, and, scrutinizing the loop, read in
yellow letters: "_Quayther & Cuthering_, 47 _Vigo Street, W_." He
knew that Quayther & Cuthering must be the tailors of Sir Nicholas
Winkworth, and hence first-class.

Hoping for the best, and putting his trust in the general decency of
human nature, he did not trouble himself with the problem: was the
overcoat a gift or an appropriation? But he preferred to assume the
generosity of Sir Nicholas rather than the dishonesty of Joseph.

Repassing the bathroom door he knocked loudly on its glass.

"Don't be all day!" he cried. He was in a hurry now.

An hour later he said to Joseph:

"I'm going down to Quayther & Cuthering's."

"Yes, sir," said Joseph, obviously much reassured.

"Nincompoop!" Edward Henry exclaimed secretly. "The fool thinks better
of me because my tailors are first-class."

But