ignified, gave a comic
squirm. Then his eyelids fluttered and with the tips of his lips he
murmured, "Better," as he glided along.

"Pooh," said Dalrymple to himself. "Getting touchy, I suppose, in his
old age. How longevity disagrees with some of us mortals."

He nearly always took a bottle of seltzer before breakfast, and this
morning old Andrew (a servant who had been in the club many years)
poured it out for him.

"I hope you're all right again this mornin', sorr," said Andrew with his
Celtic accent and in an affable half whisper.

"All right, Andrew," was the reply. "Why, you must be thinking of some
one else. I haven't been ill. My health has been excellent for a long
time past."

"Yes, sorr," said Andrew, lowering his eyes and respectfully retiring.

That last "Yes, sorr," had a dubious note about its delivery that almost
made Dalrymple call the faithful old fellow back and further question
him. "All right again?" As if he had ever been all wrong! Oh, well, poor
Andrew was ageing; others had remarked that fact months ago.

A different servant came to announce breakfast. There were only about
five men in the dining-room as Dalrymple entered it. All of them gazed
at him in an unusual way, or had late events led him to think that they
did so? At the table nearest him sat Everdell, one of the jolliest men
in the club, a person whose face was nearly always wreathed in smiles.

"Good-morning!" said Dalrymple, as he caught Everdell's eye!

"Good-morning!" The tones were replete with mild consternation, and the
look that went with them was smileless to the degree of actual gloom.
Then Everdell, who had just finished his breakfast, rose and drew near
to Dalrymple.

"'Pon my word," he said, "I'm delighted to see you all right again so
soon."

"All right again so soon?" was the reply. "What in mercy's name do you
mean?"

"Oh, my dear old fellow," began Everdell, fumbling with his watch-chain,
"it was pretty bad, you know, yesterday."

"Pretty--bad--yesterday?"

"I saw you in the morning, and for an hour or so in the afternoon.
Perhaps no one would have noticed it if you hadn't stayed here all day,
and poured those confidences into people's ears about De Pommereul. You
didn't appear to have drank a drop in the club; there's the funny part
of it. You went out several times, though, and came back again. All that
you had to drink (except some wine here at dinner, you remember) you
must have got outside. I wasn