MR.

CASHMORE.
Harold Brookenham, whom Mr.Cashmore, ushered in and announced, had found in the act of helping himself to a cup of tea at the table apparently just prepared--Harold Brookenham arrived at the point with a dash so direct as to leave the visitor an option between but two suppositions: that of a desperate plunge, to have his shame soon over, or that of the acquired habit of such appeals, which had taught him the easiest way.

There was no great sharpness in the face of Mr.Cashmore, who was somehow massive without majesty; yet he mightn't have been proof against the suspicion that his young friend's embarrassment was an easy precaution, a conscious corrective to the danger of audacity.

It wouldn't have been impossible to divine that if Harold shut his eyes and jumped it was mainly for the appearance of doing so.

Experience was to be taken as showing that one might get a five-pound note as one got a light for a cigarette; but one had to check the friendly impulse to ask for it in the same way.