one nowadays; they call him Gout. And so you
drove down? That must have been pleasant! It's a pretty country--so I'm
told. I didn't see much of it from the train. But the lake--ah, well,
it's indescribable, isn't it! After all one sees, one is bound to admit
that there is nothing to beat English scenery; of course I include
Irish. We've a strain of Irish blood in us, Mr. Howard, and I always
stand up for the ould counthry. Things are looking up there lately;
we're beginning to appreciated. Give us a year or two, and we'll have
all the world and his wife scampering over it. I've a little Irish
scheme of my own--but I mustn't bore you the first night. Mr. Howard,
if that wine is too thin--"

Howard clutched his glass with dramatic intensity.

"Chateau Legrange, if I'm not mistaken, sir," he said; "but let it be
what it may, it's simply perfect."

"I'm glad. See here, now, it's understood between us that if there's
anything you want, anything you'd like altered, you'll say so, eh,
Stafford?" he said, with an affectionate anxiety. "I'm a
rough-and-ready kind of man, and anything pleases me; but you--ah,
well, you two have the right to be particular; and I'll ask you to ask
for just what you want--and be sure you get it."

Stafford glanced round the room with its costly appointments, and Sir
Stephen caught the glance, and smiled.

"You're thinking--ah, well, no matter. Mr. Howard, try those
strawberries. I don't think they're forced. They tell me that they get
them on the slope even earlier than this. This port--now see how nice
the people in these parts are! this port came from the landlord of
the--the--yes, The Woodman Inn. He sent it with his respectful
compliments, saying you did him the honour to praise it last night. You
stayed there, I suppose? Surprisingly kind: quite a Spanish bit of
courtesy. I wrote Mr.--yes, Mr. Groves a note thanking him on your
behalf, and I sent him some dry sherry which Stenson here"--he smiled
at the butler--"tells me is rather good, eh, Stenson?"

The solemn gravity of Stenson's face did not relax in the slightest, as
he murmured:

"Count de Meza's '84, sir."

"Right! So long as it was the best we had. You approve, Stafford, eh?"

Stafford nodded with something more than approval.

"Thank you, sir," he said, simply. "We admired Mr. Groves's port."

"He's a good fellow. I hope he'll enjoy the sherry. I shall take the
first opportunity of calling and expressing my sense of his