Jimmy does things well, you
know. He's really a rich man."

"As rich as you?" Lucy asked, not at all interested in Urquhart just
now.

The eyeglass was pained. "My dear soul! You don't know what you're
saying!" She quizzed him with a saucy look. "I didn't say anything,
dear. I asked something."

If eyeglasses shiver, so did James's. "Well, well--you quibble. I dare
say Urquhart has fifteen thousand a year, and even you will know that
I haven't half as much."

She quenched her eyes, and looked meek. "No, dear, I know. All right,
he's quite rich. Now what does he do with it?"

"Do with it?" James tilted his head and scratched his neck vigorously,
but not elegantly. "Very often nothing at all. There will be years
when he won't spend a hundred above his running expenses. Then he'll
get a kind of maggot in the brain, and squander every sixpence he can
lay hands on. Or he may see reason good, and drop ten thousand in a
lap like Lingen's. Why does he do it? God knows, Who made him. He's
made like that."

Lucy said it was very interesting, but only because she thought James
would be pleased.

Then she remembered, with a pang of doubt, that she was to be driven
by this wild man to-morrow. But James--would he--? He had never been
really jealous, and just now she didn't suppose he could possibly be
so; but you can't tell with men. So she said, "James dear," very
softly, and he looked over the table at her. "If you don't think
it--sensible, I could easily telephone."

"Eh? What about?--to whom?--how? I don't follow you."

"I mean to Mr. Urquhart, about his motor to-morrow. I don't care about
it in the least. In fact--"

"Oh," said James, "the motor? Ah, I had forgotten. Oh, I think you
might go. Urquhart's been very reasonable about this business of
Lingen's. I had a little trouble, of course--it's a lot of money, even
for him. Oh, yes, I should go if I were you. Why, he might want _me_
to go, you know--which would bore me to extinction. But I know you
like that sort of thing." He nodded at her. "Yes, I should go."

She pouted, and showed storm in her eyes--all for his benefit. But he
declined benefit. A strange, dear, bleak soul.

"Very well. If it saves you anything, I'll do it," she said. James was
gratified; as he was also by the peeling of walnuts and service of
them in a sherry glass, which she briskly performed, as if she liked
it. Further than that she was too shy to go; but in the drawing-room,
before it m