s speech, and it
congratulated Denry on his first appearance in the public life of the
Five Towns. (In parenthesis it sympathised with Sir Jee in his
indisposition.) In short, Denry's triumph obliterated the memory of his
previous triumphs. It obliterated, too, all rumours adverse to the
Thrift Club. In a few days he had a thousand new members. Of course,
this addition only increased his liabilities; but now he could obtain
capital on fair terms, and he did obtain it. A company was formed. The
Countess had a few shares in this company. So (strangely) had Jock and
his companion the coachman. Not the least of the mysteries was that when
Denry reached his mother's cottage on the night of the tea with the
Countess, his arm was not in a sling, and showed no symptom of having
been damaged.

CHAPTER VIII

RAISING A WIGWAM

I

A still young man--his age was thirty--with a short, strong beard
peeping out over the fur collar of a vast overcoat, emerged from a cab
at the snowy corner of St Luke's Square and Brougham Street, and paid
the cabman with a gesture that indicated both wealth and the habit of
command. And the cabman, who had driven him over from Hanbridge through
the winter night, responded accordingly. Few people take cabs in the
Five Towns. There are few cabs to take. If you are going to a party you
may order one in advance by telephone, reconciling yourself also in
advance to the expense, but to hail a cab in the street without
forethought and jump into it as carelessly as you would jump into a
tram--this is by very few done. The young man with the beard did it
frequently, which proved that he was fundamentally ducal.

He was encumbered with a large and rather heavy parcel as he walked down
Brougham Street, and, moreover, the footpath of Brougham Street was
exceedingly dirty. And yet no one acquainted with the circumstances of
his life would have asked why he had dismissed the cab before arriving
at his destination, because every one knew. The reason was that this
ducal person, with the gestures of command, dared not drive up to his
mother's door in a cab oftener than about once a month. He opened that
door with a latch-key (a modern lock was almost the only innovation that
he had succeeded in fixing on his mother), and stumbled with his
unwieldy parcel into the exceedingly narrow lobby.

"Is that you, Denry?" called a feeble voice from the parlour.

"Yes," said he, and went into the parlour, hat, fur co