f course, and I'm
not displeased that my few shares should be worth something instead of
nothing, but----"

Thorpe lifted one of his heavy hands. "That isn't my view of the thing
at all. To be frank, I was turning over in my mind, just awhile ago,
before you came in, some way of arranging all that on a different
footing. If you'll trust it to me, I think you'll find it's all right."

Something in the form of this remark seemed to restore to Lord Plowden
his accustomed fluency of speech.

"I came here to say precisely that thing," he began--"that I do trust
it to you. We have never had any very definite talk on the subject--and
pray don't think that I want to go into details now. I'd much rather
not, in fact. But what I do want to say to you is this: I believe in
you. I feel sure that you are going to go far, as the saying is. Well,
I want to tie myself to your star. Do you see what I mean? You are going
to be a power in finance. You are going to be able to make and unmake
men as you choose. I should be very much obliged indeed if you would
make me."

Thorpe regarded the handsome and titled man of fashion with what seemed
to the other a lethargic gaze. In truth, his mind was toiling with
strenuous activity to master, in all its bearings, the significance of
what had been said. This habit of the abstracted and lack-lustre eye,
the while he was hard at work thinking, was a fortuitous asset which he
had never up to that time learned that he possessed. Unconsciously, he
dampened the spirits of his companion.

"Don't imagine I'm trying to force myself upon you," Lord Plowden said,
growing cool in the face of this slow stare. "I'm asking nothing at all.
I had the impulse to come and say to you that you are a great man, and
that you've done a great thing--and done it, moreover, in a very great
way."

"You know how it was done!" The wondering exclamation forced itself from
Thorpe's unready lips. He bent forward a little, and took a new visual
hold, as it were, of his companion's countenance.

Lord Plowden smiled. "Did you think I was such a hopeless duffer, then?"
he rejoined.

For answer, Thorpe leant back in his chair, crossed his legs, and patted
his knee contentedly. All at once his face had lightened; a genial
speculation returned to his grey eyes.

"Well, I was in a curious position about you, you see," he began to
explain. The relief with which he spoke was palpable. "I could not for
the life of me make up my