"Well, Case," he addressed the barrister, "what is it this time?
Must be something devilish important to bring you--how many thousand miles is it--into such a country as this." "It is important, Mr.Clare," stated the lawyer in his dry sing-song tones; "but my journey might have been avoided had you paid some attention to my letters." "Letters!" repeated Tim, opening his eyes.

"My dear chap, I've had no letters." "Addressed as usual to your New York bankers." Tim laughed softly.

"Where they are, with my last two quarters' allowance.

I especially instructed them to send me no mail.

One spends no money in this country." He paused, pulling his moustache.
"I'm truly sorry you had to come so far," he continued, "and if your business is, as I suspect, the old one of inducing me to return to my dear uncle's arms, I assure you the mission will prove quite fruitless.
Uncle Hillary and I could never live in the same county, let alone the same house." "And yet your uncle, the Viscount Mar, was very fond of you," ventured Case.