hair was carefully
smoothed back beneath her plain white muslin cap.

"No, no; it's only twelve o'clock, Mrs Lloyd," said Trevor,
good-humouredly. "I lunch at one."

"You take my advice, Master Dick, and have it now," said the butler.

"Yes, Lloyd, have it brought in, and ask Master Dick if he'll have some
of the old claret," said the woman.

"My dear Mrs Lloyd," said Trevor, smiling, "this is very kind of you--
of you both--but I'm not ready for lunch yet. You can both go now.
I'll ring when I'm ready."

He led the way into his handsomely furnished study, the beau ideal of a
comfortable room for a man with a mingling of literary and sporting
tastes.

"Here, let's sit down and have a cigar," he said, pushing a great
leather-covered chair to his friend; "it will smooth us down after our
encounter."

"No; I'll fill my pipe," said Pratt, suiting the action to the word, and
lighting up, to send big clouds of smoke through the large room.

"You mustn't take any notice of the old butler and housekeeper, Frank,"
said Trevor, after a pause.

"Don't mean to."

"You see, they've had their own way here since I was a child."

"And now they don't like to give it up?"

"I suppose not. But they mean well. They were always, I can remember,
most affectionate to me."

"Yes; they seem to like Master Dick."

"Pish! yes, of course--their way. Sounds stupid, though, Franky; but
you can't wonder at it."

"I don't," said Pratt. "But I should put my foot down, I think."

"That I most decidedly shall, and before Van and the little Baronet come
down."

"Oh, by Jove!" said Pratt, starting, "why those two fellows are coming
to-morrow."

"Yes; they'll be here about five."

"And what in the world are you going to do with them?"

"Oh, there's plenty to do--billiards, and cards, and smoking indoors;
fishing and yachting out of doors."

"Yes," said Pratt, with a sigh; "but they'll both be murmuring after the
flesh-pots of Pall Mall. You'll have your hands pretty full."

"Never fear," said Trevor; "I shall be able to entertain them. How
strange it all seems, though--such a little while since we were boys at
Eton, and now Van a perfect exquisite."

"Landells an imperfect ditto."

"You a barrister."

"Yes," said Pratt, "very barrister, indeed; and you altered into a tawny
tar, regularly disguised by Nature."

Here there was a tap at the door. "Come in," said Trevor, who was
sitting in a low, big-backed chair.