t, so far, he had lived up to his reputation as a dancer
with countesses. The town felt that there was something indefinable
about Denry.

Denry himself felt this. He did not consider himself clever or
brilliant. But he considered himself peculiarly gifted. He considered
himself different from other men. His thoughts would run:

"Anybody but me would have knuckled down to Duncalf and remained a
shorthand clerk for ever."

"Who but me would have had the idea of going to the ball and asking the
Countess to dance?... And then that business with the fan!"

"Who but me would have had the idea of taking his rent-collecting off
Duncalf?"

"Who but me would have had the idea of combining these loans with the
rent-collecting? It's simple enough! It's just what they want! And yet
nobody ever thought of it till I thought of it!"

And he knew of a surety that he was that most admired type in the
bustling, industrial provinces--a card.

IV

The desire to become a member of the Sports Club revived in his breast.
And yet, celebrity though he was, rising though he was, he secretly
regarded the Sports Club at Hillport as being really a bit above him.
The Sports Club was the latest and greatest phenomenon of social life in
Bursley, and it was emphatically the club to which it behoved the golden
youth of the town to belong. To Denry's generation the Conservative Club
and the Liberal Club did not seem like real clubs; they were machinery
for politics, and membership carried nearly no distinction with it. But
the Sports Club had been founded by the most dashing young men of
Hillport, which is the most aristocratic suburb of Bursley and set on a
lofty eminence. The sons of the wealthiest earthenware manufacturers
made a point of belonging to it, and, after a period of disdain, their
fathers also made a point of belonging to it. It was housed in an old
mansion, with extensive grounds and a pond and tennis courts; it had a
working agreement with the Golf Club and with the Hillport Cricket Club.
But chiefly it was a social affair. The correctest thing was to be seen
there at nights, rather late than early; and an exact knowledge of card
games and billiards was worth more in it than prowess on the field.

It was a club in the Pall Mall sense of the word.

And Denry still lived in insignificant Brougham Street, and his mother
was still a sempstress! These were apparently insurmountable truths. All
the men whom he knew to be members