"Where one gets his pockets lined, another starves.

Nay, ten--fifty--more, for all we know, starve for the one lucky one.

I should not, myself, feel inclined to risk the journey to them." "_You!_ It's not likely you would," was the reply of Frederick Massingbird.

"Everybody was not born heir to Verner's Pride." Lionel laughed pleasantly.

They were pacing the terrace in the sunshine of a winter's afternoon, a crisp, cold, bright day in January.