d for dinner, and were knocking the balls about for
ten minutes, waiting for the gong, and they were talking in that
incoherent way characteristic of billiard-players.

"The governor's not very well again," observed Archie, "and the doctor
won't let him go up to town. That's why we're here."

Dick missed a difficult cannon (he had only arrived from town himself by
the 6.17), and began to chalk his cue very carefully.

"There's nothing whatever to do," continued Archie, "so I warn you."

Dick opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, pursing it up
precisely as once more he addressed himself to the balls, and this time
brought off a really brilliant stroke.

"And he's in a terrible way about Frank," continued the other. "You've
heard all about that?"

Dick nodded.

"And he swears he won't have him home again, and that he can go to the
devil."

Dick arched his eyebrows interrogatively.

"Of course, he doesn't mean it.... But the gout, you know, and all
that.... I think Frank had better keep out of the way, though, for a
bit. Oh! by the way, the Rector and Jenny are coming to dinner."

"What does Jenny say to it all?" asked Dick gently.

"Oh! Jenny laughs."

These two young men--for Archie was only twenty-five, and Dick a year or
two older--were quite remarkably like one another in manner and general
bearing. Each, though their faces were entirely different, wore that
same particular form of mask that is fashionable just now. Each had a
look in his eyes as if the blinds were down--rather insolent and yet
rather pleasant. Each moved in the same kind of way, slow and
deliberate; each spoke quietly on rather a low note, and used as few
words as possible. Each, just now, wore a short braided dinner-jacket of
precisely the same cut.

For the rest, they were quite unlike. Archie was clean-shaven, of a
medium sort of complexion, with a big chin and rather loosely built;
Dick wore a small, pointed brown beard, and was neat and alert. Neither
of them did anything particular in the world. Archie was more or less
tied to his father, except in the autumn--for Archie drew the line at
Homburg, and went about for short visits, returning continually to look
after the estate; Dick lived in a flat in town on six hundred a year,
allowed him by his mother, and was supposed to be a sort of solicitor.
They saw a good deal of one another, off and on, and got on together
rather better than most brothers; certainly better than