on here.'

'Not till you've got the drop of poison in your blood, in the form of an
army landed. That will teach you to catch at the drug.'

'No, Fenellan! Besides they've got to land. I guarantee a trusty army and
navy under a contract, at two-thirds of the present cost. We'll start a
National Defence Insurance Company after the next panic.'

'During,' said Mr. Fenellan, and there was a flutter of laughter at the
unobtrusive hint for seizing Dame England in the mood.

Both dropped a sigh.

'But you must try and run down with us to Lakelands to-morrow,' Mr.
Radnor resumed on a cheerfuller theme. 'You have not yet seen all I 've
done there. And it 's a castle with a drawbridge: no exchangeing of
visits, as we did at Craye Farm and at Creckholt; we are there for
country air; we don't court neighbours at all--perhaps the elect; it will
depend on Nataly's wishes. We can accommodate our Concert-set, and about
thirty or forty more, for as long as they like. You see, that was my
intention--to be independent of neighbouring society. Madame Callet
guarantees dinners or hot suppers for eighty--and Armandine is the last
person to be recklessly boasting.--When was it I was thinking last of
Armandine?' He asked himself that, as he rubbed at the back of his head.

Mr. Fenellan was reading his friend's character by the light of his
remarks and in opposition to them, after the critical fashion of
intimates who know as well as hear: but it was amiably and trippingly, on
the dance of the wine in his veins.

His look, however, was one that reminded; and Mr. Radnor cried: 'Now!
whatever it is!'

'I had an interview: I assure you,' Mr. Fenellan interposed to pacify:
'the smallest of trifles, and to be expected: I thought you ought to know
it:--an interview with her lawyer; office business, increase of Insurance
on one of her City warehouses.'

'Speak her name, speak the woman's name; we're talking like a pair of
conspirators,' exclaimed Mr. Radnor.

'He informed me that Mrs. Burman has heard of the new mansion.'

'My place at Lakelands?'

Mr. Radnor's clear-water eyes hardened to stony as their vision ran along
the consequences of her having heard it.

'Earlier this time!' he added, thrummed on the table, and thumped with
knuckles. 'I make my stand at Lakelands for good! Nothing mortal moves
me!'

'That butler of hers--'

'Jarniman, you mean: he's her butler, yes, the scoundrel--h'm-pah! Heaven
forgive me! she's an honest