rything you want for the journey?"

"Who is the man?"

"Lars Larssen," answered Matheson. He lowered his voice slightly, though
on the bustling railway platform there was no likelihood of anyone
listening to the conversation.

Sir Francis nodded his head. He was heavily interested in
company-promoting himself, as a means of swelling an inadequate property
income, and Lars Larssen was a magic name.

"Hudson Bay scheme?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Well, business before pleasure," he remarked sententiously.

Olive cut in with a question. "Have you finished your experiments with
your brother?"

"No," answered Matheson evenly.

"When will they be finished?"

"I can't say. There's a great deal to be discussed and planned."

"Then bring him with you to-morrow. You can plan together whatever it is
you have to plan at Monte. Besides, I want to see him."

"John is a busy man," protested Matheson. "I don't think he can leave
his laboratory."

"Give him my invitation, and make it a pressing one," pursued Olive,
careless of anything but her own whim. "Tell him--tell him I
particularly want him to explain his experiments to me himself."

At this moment the little horn of departure sounded its quaint note from
the end of the platform, and a porter hurried to lock the door of the
_wagon-lit_.

"Have you everything you want for the journey?" asked Matheson.

"I have everything I want," replied his wife coldly. "My father has seen
to that.... Good-bye."

She did not offer to kiss him, and he for his part drew back into a
shell of reserve. Many thoughts were buzzing through his mind as they
exchanged the commonplaces of a railway station good-bye from either
side of a compartment window.

Olive's last words were: "Remember, I'm expecting you to bring your
brother with you to-morrow."

A very tired look was in Matheson's eyes, and a weary droop on his
shoulders, as the train pulled out and he was left alone on the
platform.

Two Frenchmen whispered to one another about him. "The milord Matheson,
see you! The very rich milord Matheson."

"Ah, if I were only a rich man too!"

"What would you do?"

"I should _spend_. How I should spend!" He licked his lips at the
thought of the pleasures of body that money could buy him.

"I should _save_," said the other. "I should make myself the richest man
in the world. That would be glorious!"

These last words reached the ears of Matheson, and set up a curious
train of though