t you had
made a great deal of money very quickly. My experience of gentlemen who
have made a great deal of money very quickly is that they have generally
done their bit of time. But, of course, if you----. Let me think. Do you
drink, sir?"

"No."

Mr. Teal sighed. Roland could not help feeling that he was disappointing
the old man a good deal.

"You do not, I suppose, chance to have a past?" asked Mr. Teal, not very
hopefully. "I use the word in its technical sense. A deserted wife? Some
poor creature you have treated shamefully?"

At the risk of sinking still further in the butler's esteem, Roland was
compelled to answer in the negative.

"I was afraid not," said Mr. Teal, shaking his head. "Thinking it all
over yesterday, I said to myself, 'I'm afraid he wouldn't have one.' You
don't look like the sort of gentleman who had done much with his time."

"Thinking it over?"

"Not on your account, sir," explained Mr. Teal. "On the family's. I
disapproved of this match from the first. A man who has served a family
as long as I have had the honor of serving his lordship's, comes to
entertain a high regard for the family prestige. And, with no offense to
yourself, sir, this would not have done."

"Well, it looks as if it would have to do," said Roland, gloomily. "I
can't see any way out of it."

"I can, sir. My niece at Aldershot."

Mr. Teal wagged his head at him with a kind of priestly archness.

"You can not have forgotten my niece at Aldershot?"

Roland stared at him dumbly. It was like a line out of a melodrama. He
feared, first for his own, then for the butler's sanity. The latter was
smiling gently, as one who sees light in a difficult situation.

"I've never been at Aldershot in my life."

"For our purposes you have, sir. But I'm afraid I am puzzling you. Let
me explain. I've got a niece over at Aldershot who isn't much
good. She's not very particular. I am sure she would do it for a
consideration."

"Do what?"

"Be your 'Past,' sir. I don't mind telling you that as a 'Past' she's
had some experience; looks the part, too. She's a barmaid, and you would
guess it the first time you saw her. Dyed yellow hair, sir," he went on
with enthusiasm, "done all frizzy. Just the sort of young person that a
young gentleman like yourself would have had a 'past' with. You couldn't
find a better if you tried for a twelvemonth."

"But, I say----!"

"I suppose a hundred wouldn't hurt you?"

"Well, no, I suppose