erscription. He turned a little away, and Mr. Sabin
noticed that the fingers which tore open the envelope were trembling.
The note seemed short enough, but he must have read it half a dozen
times before at last he turned round to the messenger.

"There is no answer," he said in a low tone.

He folded the note and put it carefully into his breast pocket. Mr.
Sabin subdued an insane desire to struggle with him and discover, by
force, if necessary, who was the sender of those few brief lines. For
Mr. Brott was a changed man.

"I am afraid," he said, turning to his guest, "that this has been a very
dull evening for you. To tell you the truth, this club is not exactly
the haunt of pleasure-seekers. It generally oppresses me for the first
hour or so. Would you like a hand at bridge, or a game of billiards? I
am wholly at your service--until twelve o'clock."

Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock.

"You are very good," he said, "but I was never much good at indoor
games. Golf has been my only relaxation for many years. Besides, I too
have an engagement for which I must leave in a very few minutes."

"It is very good of you," Mr. Brott said, "to have given me the pleasure
of your company. I have the greatest possible admiration for your niece,
Mr. Sabin, and Camperdown is a thundering good fellow. He will be our
leader in the House of Lords before many years have passed."

"He is, I believe," Mr. Sabin remarked, "of the same politics as
yourself."

"We are both," Mr. Brott answered, with a smile, "I am afraid outside
the pale of your consideration in this respect. We are both Radicals."

Mr. Sabin lit another cigarette and glanced once more at the clock.

"A Radical peer!" he remarked. "Isn't that rather an anomaly? The
principles of Radicalism and aristocracy seem so divergent."

"Yet," Mr. Brott said, "they are not wholly irreconcilable. I have often
wished that this could be more generally understood. I find myself at
times very unpopular with people, whose good opinion I am anxious to
retain, simply owing to this too general misapprehension."

Mr. Sabin smiled gently.

"You were referring without doubt--" he began.

"To the Countess," Brott admitted. "Yes, it is true. But after all," he
added cheerfully, "I believe that our disagreements are mainly upon the
surface. The Countess is a woman of wide culture and understanding. Her
mind, too, is plastic. She has few prejudices."

Mr. Sabin glanced at the clock for the