of their friend's defection,
were full of sad memories, much as relations after a funeral hymn the
acts of the deceased.

George lit a cigar and smoked it savagely. "So that is the end of
Lewis! And to think I knew the fool at school and college and couldn't
make a better job of him than this! Do you remember, John, how we used
to call him 'Vaulting Ambition,' because he won the high jump and was a
cocky beggar in general?"

"And do you remember when he got his First, and they wanted him to stand
for a fellowship, but he was keen to get out of England and travel? Do
you remember that last night at Heston, when he told us all he was going
to do, and took a bet with Wratislaw about it?"

It is probable that this sad elegy would have continued for hours, had
not a servant approached with letters, which he distributed, two to
Arthur Mordaunt and one to Mr. Winterham. A close observer might have
seen that two of the envelopes were identical. Arthur slipped one into
his pocket, but tore open the other and read.

"It's from Lewie," he cried. "He wants me down there next week at
Etterick. He says he is all alone and crazy to see old friends again."

"Mine's the same!" said George, after puzzling out Mr. Haystoun's by no
means legible writing. "I say, John, of course we'll go. It's the very
chance we were wishing for."

Then he added with a cheerful face, "I begin to think better of human
nature. Here were we abusing the poor man as a defaulter, and ten
minutes after he heaps coals of fire on our heads. There can't be much
truth in what that newspaper says, or he wouldn't want his friends down
to spoil sport."

"I wonder what he'll be like? Wratislaw saw him in town, but only for a
little, and he notices nothing. He's rather famous now, you know, and
we may expect to find him very dignified and wise. He'll be able to
teach us most things, and we'll have to listen with proper humility."

"I'll give you fifty to one he's nothing of the kind," said George. "He
has his faults like us all, but they don't run in that line. No, no,
Lewie will be modest enough. He may have the pride of Lucifer at heart,
but he would never show it. His fault is just this infernal modesty,
which makes him shirk fighting some blatant ass or publishing his merits
to the world."

Arthur looked curiously at his companion. Mr. Winterham was loved of
his friends as the best of good fellows, but to the staid and rising
politician he was not a person