himself a little pride. His doing, it was
true, had as yet been nothing much to the eye of the world; but he had
made friends under circumstances not very favourable, friends among the
intelligent and the powerful. That gift, it seemed, was his, if no
other--the ability to make himself liked, respected. He, by law the son
of nobody, had begun to approve himself true son of the father he loved
and honoured.

His habits were vigorous. Rising very early, he walked across the Park,
and had a swim in the Serpentine. The hours of the solid day he spent,
for the most part, in study at the British Museum. Then, if he had no
engagement, he generally got by train well out of town, and walked in
sweet air until nightfall; or, if weather were bad, he granted himself
the luxury of horse-hire, and rode--rode, teeth set against wind and
rain. This earned him sleep--his daily prayer to the gods.

At the date appointed, he went in search of Mrs. Borisoff, who welcomed
him cordially. Her first inquiry was whether he had got the Castle.

"I have got it," Piers replied, and entered into particulars. They
talked about it like children anticipating a holiday. Mrs. Borisoff
then questioned him about his doings since he had been in England. On
his mentioning a certain great lady, a Russian, with whom he was to
dine next week, his friend replied with a laugh, which she refused to
explain.

"When can you spend an evening here? I don't mean a dinner. I'll give
you something to eat, but it doesn't count; you come to talk, as I know
you can, though you didn't let me suspect it at Petersburg. I shall
have one or two others, old chums, not respectable people. Name your
own day."

When the evening came, Piers entered Mrs. Borisoff's drawing-room with
trepidation. He glanced at the guest who had already arrived--a lady
unknown to him. When again the door opened, he looked, trembling. His
fearful hope ended only in a headache, but he talked, as was expected
of him, and the hostess smiled approval.

"These friends of yours," he said aside to her, before leaving, "are
nice people to know. But----"

And he broke off, meeting her eyes.

"I don't understand," said his hostess, with a perplexed look.

"Then I daren't try to make you."

A few days after, at the great house of the great Russian lady, he
ascended the stairs without a tremor, glanced round the room with
indifference. No one would be there whom he could not face calmly.
Brilliant wome