t's younger you are!"

He laid his hand heavily on the other's shoulder, and uttered this
obvious untruth with all the warmth and conviction that Irish
imagination and Irish hospitality could suggest.

"But you're perished after the long drive! Burke!" he called through
the open door. "Burke, when you're done with the mare come round and
carry up Mr. Milbanke's baggage. Now, James!" He wheeled round again,
catching up a silver candlestick from the hall table. "Now, if you come
upstairs, I'll show you where we're going to billet you."

With long, hasty steps he crossed the hall, his tall figure casting
gaunt shadows on the bare and lofty wall.

"We're a trifle unsophisticated here," he went on with a loud, hard
laugh. "But at least we'll give you enough to eat and a bed to lie on.
After all, a decent dinner and a warm welcome are the bone and sinew of
hospitality the world over. Unless they include a drop of something to
put life into a man----"

He paused, turning round upon his guest.

"By Jupiter, that reminds me! Have a small drink before we go another
step, just to take the cold out of you?"

Milbanke, who was close behind him, glanced up. He saw his host's face
more clearly than he had seen it in the hall. His answer when it came
was hurried and a little confused.

"No, Denis. No," he said. "Nothing; nothing, I assure you."

Asshlin laughed again.

"Still the same stickler?" he said. "How virtues cling to a man!"

He turned and began to mount the stairs. Then, reaching the first door
on the wide corridor, he paused.

"Here's your habitation," he said. "Burke will bring up your belongings
and get you whatever you want. We dine in a quarter of an hour."

He nodded; and was turning away, when a fresh thought struck him.

"You may as well take this candle," he said; "we haven't arrived at the
civilisation of gas. You might stumble over something, looking for the
matches. This is practically a bachelor establishment, you
know--without any bachelor comforts."

Once more he laughed; and, thrusting the candle into his guest's hand,
hurried away across the landing.

In silence Milbanke took the candle and, holding it uncertainly, waited
until his host had disappeared. Then slowly he turned and entered the
large, bare bedroom. For a moment he hesitated, his eyes wandering from
the faded window-hangings to the stiff, old-fashioned furniture.
Finally, laying aside the candlestick, he sat down upon the side o