ow
and all the British Isles to be submerged save the summit of Snowdon,
and he and that fellow to find themselves alone and safe together on
the peak, he could still be relied upon never to speak to that fellow
again. Thus would he prove that he was a man of his word and that
there was no nonsense about him.

Strange though it may appear to the thoughtless, he was not
disliked--much less ostracised. Codes differ. He conformed to one
which suited the instincts of some thirty thousand other adult
males in the Five Towns. Two strapping girls in the warehouse of
his manufactory at Knype quarrelled over him in secret as the Prince
Charming of those parts. Yet he had never addressed them except to
inform them that if they didn't mind their p's and q's he would have
them flung off the "bank" [manufactory]. Rachel herself had not yet
begun to be prejudiced against him.

This monster of irascible cruelty regarded himself as a middle-aged
person. But he was only twenty-five that day, and he did not look
more, either, despite a stiff, strong moustache. He too, like Louis
and Rachel, had the gestures of youth--the unconsidered, lithe
movements of limb, the wistful, unteachable pride of his age, the
touching self-confidence. Old Mrs. Maldon was indeed old among them.

II

She sat down in all her benevolent stateliness and with a slightly
irritating deliberation undid the parcel, displaying a flattish
leather case about seven inches by four, which she handed formally to
Julian Maldon, saying as she did so--

"From your old auntie, my dear boy, with her loving wishes. You have
now lived just a quarter of a century."

And as Julian, awkwardly grinning, fumbled with the spring-catch of
the case, she was aware of having accomplished a great and noble act
of surrender. She hoped the best from it. In particular, she hoped
that she had saved the honour of her party and put it at last on a
secure footing of urbane convivial success. For that a party of hers
should fail in giving pleasure to every member of it was a menace to
her legitimate pride. And so far fate had not been propitious. The
money in the house had been, and was, on her mind. Then the lateness
of the guests had disturbed her. And then Julian had aggrieved her by
a piece of obstinacy very like himself. Arriving straight from a train
journey, he had wanted to wash. But he would not go to the specially
prepared bedroom, where a perfect apparatus awaited him. No, he m