eeks--"

"And we have denied ourselves nothing," Cosway added. "We have
lived like princes. Another bottle of champagne, waiter. We have our
riding-horses, and our carriage, and the best box at the theater, and
such cigars as London itself could not produce. I call that making the
most of life. Try the new bottle. Glorious drink, isn't it? Why doesn't
my father have champagne at the family dinner-table?"

"Is your father a rich man, Cosway?"

"I should say not. He didn't give me anything like the money I expected,
when I said good-by--and I rather think he warned me solemnly, at
parting, to take the greatest care of it.' There's not a farthing more
for you,' he said, 'till your ship returns from her South American
station.' _Your_ father is a clergyman, Stone."

"Well, and what of that?"

"And some clergymen are rich."

"My father is not one of them, Cosway."

"Then let us say no more about him. Help yourself, and pass the bottle."

Instead of adopting this suggestion, Stone rose with a very grave face,
and once more rang the bell. "Ask the landlady to step up," he said,
when the waiter appeared.

"What do you want with the landlady?" Cosway inquired.

"I want the bill."

The landlady--otherwise Mrs. Pounce--entered the room. She was short,
and old, and fat, and painted, and a widow. Students of character, as
revealed in the face, would have discovered malice and cunning in her
bright black eyes, and a bitter vindictive temper in the lines about her
thin red lips. Incapable of such subtleties of analysis as these, the
two young officers differed widely, nevertheless, in their opinions of
Mrs. Pounce. Cosway's reckless sense of humor delighted in pretending
to be in love with her. Stone took a dislike to her from the first. When
his friend asked for the reason, he made a strangely obscure answer.
"Do you remember that morning in the wood when you killed the snake?" he
said. "I took a dislike to the snake." Cosway made no further inquiries.

"Well, my young heroes," said Mrs. Pounce (always loud, always cheerful,
and always familiar with her guests), "what do you want with me now?"

"Take a glass of champagne, my darling," said Cosway; "and let me try if
I can get my arm round your waist. That's all _I_ want with you."

The landlady passed this over without notice. Though she had spoken to
both of them, her cunning little eyes rested on Stone from the moment
when she appeared in the room. She knew by insti