s he had contracted
habits of which he was not in the least ashamed. Certain odd minutes
every day went to learning things by heart; he never took a ticket
without noting the number; he devoted January to Petronius, February to
Catullus, March to the Etruscan vases perhaps; anyhow he had done good
work in India, and there was nothing to regret in his life except the
fundamental defects which no wise man regrets, when the present is still
his. So concluding he looked up suddenly and smiled. Rachel caught his
eye.

"And now you've chewed something thirty-seven times, I suppose?" she
thought, but said politely aloud, "Are your legs troubling you to-day,
Mr. Pepper?"

"My shoulder blades?" he asked, shifting them painfully. "Beauty has no
effect upon uric acid that I'm aware of," he sighed, contemplating the
round pane opposite, through which the sky and sea showed blue. At the
same time he took a little parchment volume from his pocket and laid it
on the table. As it was clear that he invited comment, Helen asked him
the name of it. She got the name; but she got also a disquisition upon
the proper method of making roads. Beginning with the Greeks, who
had, he said, many difficulties to contend with, he continued with the
Romans, passed to England and the right method, which speedily became
the wrong method, and wound up with such a fury of denunciation
directed against the road-makers of the present day in general, and the
road-makers of Richmond Park in particular, where Mr. Pepper had the
habit of cycling every morning before breakfast, that the spoons fairly
jingled against the coffee cups, and the insides of at least four rolls
mounted in a heap beside Mr. Pepper's plate.

"Pebbles!" he concluded, viciously dropping another bread pellet upon
the heap. "The roads of England are mended with pebbles! 'With the first
heavy rainfall,' I've told 'em, 'your road will be a swamp.' Again and
again my words have proved true. But d'you suppose they listen to me
when I tell 'em so, when I point out the consequences, the consequences
to the public purse, when I recommend 'em to read Coryphaeus? No, Mrs.
Ambrose, you will form no just opinion of the stupidity of mankind until
you have sat upon a Borough Council!" The little man fixed her with a
glance of ferocious energy.

"I have had servants," said Mrs. Ambrose, concentrating her gaze. "At
this moment I have a nurse. She's a good woman as they go, but she's
determined to make