Swiss friend of mine," Piers resumed. "A man
you would like; the best, jolliest, most amusing fellow I ever met; his
name is Moncharmont. He is in business at Odessa. There was talk of his
coming to England with me, but we put it off; another time. He's a man
who does me good; but for him, I shouldn't have held on."

"Then you don't like it, after all?" asked Mrs. Hannaford.

"Like it? No. But I have stuck to it--partly for very shame, as you
know. I've stuck to it hard, and it's getting too late to think of
anything else. I have plans; I'll tell you."

These plans were laid open when tea had been served in the little
sitting-room. Piers had it in mind to start an independent business,
together with his friend Moncharmont; one of them to live in Russia,
one in London.

"My father has promised the money. He promised it three years ago. I
might have had it when I liked; but I should have been ashamed to ask
till a reasonable time had gone by. It won't be a large capital, but
Moncharmont has some, and putting it together, we shall manage to
start, I think."

He paused, watching the effect of his announcement. Mrs. Hannaford was
radiant with pleasure; Olga looked amused.

"Why do you laugh?" Piers asked, turning to the girl.

"I didn't exactly laugh. But it seems odd. I can't quite think of you
as a merchant."

"To tell you the truth, I can't quite think of myself in that light
either. I'm only a bungler at commerce, but I've worked hard, and I
have a certain amount of knowledge. For one thing, I've got hold of the
language; this last year I've travelled a good deal in Russia for our
firm, and it often struck me that I might just as well be doing the
business on my own account. I dreamt once of a partnership with our
people; but there's no chance of that. They're very close; besides,
they don't make any serious account of me; I'm not the type that gains
English confidence. Strange that I get on so much better with almost
any other nationality--with men, that is to say."

He smiled, reddened, turned it off with a laugh. For the moment he was
his old self, and his wandering eyes kept a look such has had often
been seen in them during that month of torture three years ago.

"You are quite sure," said Mrs. Hannaford, "that it wouldn't be better
to use your capital in some other way?"

"Don't, don't!" Piers exclaimed, tossing his arm in exaggerated dread.
"Don't set me adrift again. I've thought about it; it's settl