es," said George promptly. "You'd go out and lick the world, Simmy,
because you're that kind of a feller. You've got character, you have.
You've got self-respect, and ideals, and nerve. I ought to have been put
into your body and you into mine."

Simmy winced. "Strike out for yourself, George. Be somebody. Buck up,
and--"

George sagged back into the chair as he gloomily interrupted the speaker.
"That's all very fine, Simmy, that sort of talk, but I'm not in the mood
to listen to it now. I wasn't through telling you about the wedding. Where
was I when I stopped? Oh, yes, the scarf-pin. Hey, waiter! Come here a
second."

A waiter approached. With great solemnity George arose and grasped him by
the shoulder, and a moment later had removed the nickel-plated badge from
the man's lapel. The waiter was tolerant. He grinned. It was what he was
expected to do under the circumstances. But he was astonished by the next
act of the tall young man in evening clothes. George proceeded to jam the
scarf-pin into the fellow's coat where the badge of service had rested the
instant before. Then, with Simmy looking on in disgust, he pinned the
waiter's badge upon his own coat. "There!" he said, with a sneer. "That is
supposed to make a gentleman of you, and this makes a man of me. On your
way, gentleman! I--"

"For heaven's sake, George," cried Simmy, arising. "Don't be an ass." He
took the tag from Tresslyn's coat and handed it back to the waiter. "Give
him the scarf-pin if you like, old man, but don't rob him of his badge of
honour. He earns an honest living with that thing, you know."

George sat down. He was suddenly abashed. "What an awful bounder you must
think I am, Simmy."

"Nonsense. You're a bit tight, that's all." He slipped the waiter a bank-
note and motioned him away. "Now, let's go home, George."

"Yes, sir; he turned and walked out of the room, leaving all of us
standing there," muttered George, with a mental leap backward. "I'll never
forget it, long as I live. He simply scorned the whole lot of us. I went
away as quickly as I could, but the others beat me to it. I left mother
and Anne there all alone, just wandering around the room as if they were
half-stunned. Never, never will I forget Anne's white, scared face, and
I've never seen mother so helpless, either. Anne gripped, that big
envelope so tight that it crumpled up into almost nothing. Mother took it
away from her and opened it. Nobody was there but us three.