"Right. Who else shall we have?"

"Why have anybody else?"

"There are difficulties," said Gorman, "about the rest of the party. You
wouldn't care to meet my friends."

"Oh, yes, I would."

"No, you wouldn't. I know you. You don't consider Irish Nationalists fit
to associate with. We're not respectable."

That was putting it too strongly; but it is a fact that I do not know,
or particularly want to know, any of Gorman's political associates.

"And your friends," said Gorman, "wouldn't know me."

Again Gorman was guilty of over-statement; but my friends are, for the
most part, of conservative and slightly military tastes. They would not
get on well with Gorman.

"I'll think it over," said Gorman, "and let you know."

Two days later I got my invitation. Gorman, in the excitement of sudden
great possessions, had devised an expensive kind of party. The invited
guests were Mr. and Mrs. Ascher, Miss Gibson, Tim and myself. We were
to voyage off from Southampton in a motor yacht, hired by Gorman, to
see the Naval Review at Spithead. We were to start at ten o'clock from
Waterloo station in a saloon carriage reserved for our party.

"We have to be back in time for Miss Gibson to go to the theatre,"
Gorman wrote, "so we must start early. I believe the show is to be
worth seeing. British Navy at its best. King there. Royal salutes from
Dreadnoughts. Rank, fashion and beauty in abundance."

The week was to be one of exciting festivities. Gorman had fixed his
party for the day before my exhibition of Tim's new invention.

I was shaving--shortly after eight o'clock on the morning of Gorman's
party--when my servant came into my room.

"I beg pardon, sir," he said, "but there's a young man waiting in the
hall, says that he wants to see you."

It seemed odd that any one should want to see me at that hour.

"Who is he?" I said.

"Don't know, sir. Gives his name as Gorman. But he's not our Mr.
Gorman."

"It may be Tim," I said. "Does he look as if he had an artistic soul?"

"Couldn't say, sir. Might have, sir. Artists is very various. Doesn't
seem to me, sir, as if his man looked after his clothes proper."

"Must be Tim," I said. "Show him in."

"In here, sir?"

"Yes. And have an extra kidney cooked for breakfast."

Tim came in very shyly and sat down on a chair near the door. He
certainly did not look as if his clothes had been properly cared for.
He was wearing the blue suit which I suspected was the best he