good for Miss Joliffe, for none of them ever came to
Bellevue Lodge, and the select boarding-house is so select that you and
I are the only boarders." He paused for a minute and went on:
"Americans--no, I don't think much of Americans; they're too hard for
me--spend a lot of money on their own pleasure, and sometimes cut a dash
with a big donation, where they think it will be properly trumpeted.
But they haven't got warm hearts. I don't care for Americans. Still,
if you know any about, you can say I am quite venal; and if any one of
them restores my organ, I am prepared to admire the whole lot. Only
they must give a little water-engine for blowing it into the bargain.
Shutter, the organist of Carisbury Cathedral, has just had a
water-engine put in, and, now we've got our own new waterworks at
Cullerne, we could manage it very well here too."

The subject did not interest Westray, and he flung back:

"Is Miss Joliffe very badly off?" he asked; "she looks like one of those
people who have seen better days."

"She is worse than badly off--I believe she is half starved. I don't
know how she lives at all. I wish I could help her, but I haven't a
copper myself to jingle on a tombstone, and she is too proud to take it
if I had."

He went to a cupboard in a recess at the back of the room, and took out
a squat black bottle.

"Poverty's a chilly theme," he said; "let's take something to warm us
before we go on with the variations."

He pushed the bottle towards his friend, but, though Westray felt
inclined to give way, the principles of severe moderation which he had
recently adopted restrained him, and he courteously waved away the
temptation.

"You're hopeless," said the organist. "What are we to do for you, who
neither smoke nor drink, and yet want to talk about poverty? This is
some _eau-de-vie_ old Martelet the solicitor gave me for playing the
Wedding March at his daughter's marriage. `The Wedding March was
magnificently rendered by the organist, Mr John Sharnall,' you know, as
if it was the Fourth Organ-Sonata. I misdoubt this ever having paid
duty; he's not the man to give away six bottles of anything he'd paid
the excise upon."

He poured out a portion of spirit far larger than Westray had expected,
and then, becoming intuitively aware of his companion's surprise, said
rather sharply: "If you despise good stuff, I must do duty for us both.
Up to the top of the church windows is a good maxim." And he