resent reading for the Bar. In meditative moments it seemed to him
that he was, perhaps, best fitted for the diplomatic service.

Not till this gentleman had taken his leave, which he did (to catch a
train) soon after lunch, was there any mention of the fact that the
Hannafords had a stranger residing under their roof: in coarse English,
a lodger.

To Eustace, as his aunt knew, the subject would necessarily have been
painful; and not only in the snobbish sense; it would really have
distressed him to learn that his kinsfolk were glad of such a
supplement to their income. But soon after his retirement, Mrs.
Hannaford spoke of the matter, and no sooner had she mentioned Piers
Otway's name than Irene flashed upon her a look of attentive interest.

"Is he related to Jerome Otway, the agitator?--His son? How delightful!
Oh, I know all about him; I mean, about the old man. One of our friends
at Helsingfors was an old French revolutionist, who has lived a great
deal in England; he was always talking about his English friends of
long ago, and Jerome Otway often came in. He didn't know whether he was
still alive. Oh, I must write and tell him."

The ladies gave what information they could (it amounted to very
little) about the recluse of Wensleydale; then they talked of the young
man.

"We knew him at Geneva, first of all," said Mrs. Hannaford. "Indeed, he
lived with us there for a time; he was only a boy, then, and such a
nice boy! He has changed a good deal--don't you think so, Olga? I don't
mean for the worse; not at all; but he is not so talkative and
companionable. You'll find him shy at first, I fancy."

"He works terrifically," put in Olga. "It's certain he must be injuring
his health."

"Then," exclaimed Irene, "why do you let him?"

"Let him? We have no right to interfere with a young man of
one-and-twenty."

"Surely you have, if he's behaving foolishly, to his own harm. But what
do you call terrific work?"

"All day long, and goodness knows how much of the night. Somebody told
us his light had been seen burning once at nearly three o'clock."

"Is he at it now?" asked Irene, with a comical look towards the ceiling.

They explained Otway's absence.

"Oh, he lunches with Members of Parliament, does he?"

"It's a very exceptional thing for him to leave home," said Mrs.
Hannaford. "He only goes out to breathe the air for half an hour or so
in an afternoon."

"You astonish me, aunt! You oughtn't to allow it