d enough
to make a ripple, but I forgot to ask for sandwiches."

"If you lunch with me, you could come back afterwards," Kit suggested,
and they set off down the hill.

When they reached Ashness, Gerald tried to hide his surprise. Kit had
made some changes in the old house and so far kept to the Spanish rule of
meals. Lunch was a late breakfast, well served in china and silver that
were seldom used in Peter Askew's time. The low room had been cleverly
painted and a casement commanding a view of the dale replaced the
original narrow windows. Specimens of ancient Indian pottery stood on the
sideboard, and there were curtains of embroidered silk, feather-flowers,
and silverwork that Kit had brought from Spanish America. The things gave
the lonely farmstead an exotic touch, but they implied the command of
money and cultivated taste.

"You have a beautiful room," Gerald remarked, when the meal was over.
"Don't know that I'm much of a connoisseur, but some of the things look
rather fine."

"I'll show them to you presently," Kit replied and gave Gerald a small,
dark cigar. "I wonder how you'll like the flavor."

"Our club cigars are dear and good, but the best is nothing like this,"
Gerald declared after a minute or two. "Where did they come from?"

"They were given me in Cuba; I believe the make is not offered for public
sale. In a general way, Cuban tobacco is not what it was, but there are
belts of soil that grow a leaf that can't be equaled anywhere else."

"I suppose they keep the crop for presidents and dictators. The quality
indicates it," Gerald suggested, and Kit smiled.

Gerald tasted his black coffee. "If it's not bad form, where did you get
this? There's nothing of the kind in Cumberland, and it's better than the
Turkish they give you in London."

"It came from a Costa Rican _hacienda,_ and was a gift. I'll get no more
when the bag is done. If you come back in a month, you'll find me living
in plain north-country style."

"I imagine you made up for that while you were away," said Gerald, who
rose and went to the side-board. "A curious little jar and obviously old!
Is this the kind of thing the Aztecs made?"

"I rather think it is Aztec, though I didn't buy it in Mexico. I gave
about a pound for the jar and found a gold onza inside."

"An _onza?_ Oh, yes, an ounce! The kind of coin some countries mint but
very seldom use. Something of a bargain!"

"I suppose it was," Kit replied incautiously. "For all