“I cannot say,” Montella replied, with hesitation. “In so far as the Jewish question includes the effect of Jewish influence upon the trade and commerce of the country, it concerns all classes from the highest to the lowest. But, friends, it is getting late; and we are most of us faint from want of food. If the consequence of poor Campbell’s death is in anyway serious, we must call a meeting in order to discuss the situation. For the present, I think we should disperse.” He had noticed the beadle waiting to switch off the light and bolt the doors. It was characteristic of the young member to avoid causing inconvenience to any person; and in this case he could see that the synagogal officer was weary from his arduous duties, and anxious to be gone. So he shook hands with each one of his willing hearers, and bade them all farewell. Then he signalled to his waiting hansom, and was driven rapidly away. The treasurer watched the vehicle until it was out of sight. “Fine chap—Montella,” he said to a friend who stood near by. “One of the good old stock, and not ashamed to own it either. He’ll give that devil Moore a _potch_ if anyone can. He’s got plenty of brain and heart and grit in him, or my name’s not Jacob Schlapp.” The friend’s enthusiasm was less effusive. “We will discuss Lal Montella when we’ve put something inside us,” he rejoined, taking the treasurer’s arm. “Have you forgotten that it was _Yom Kippur_ to-day?” CHAPTER II THE MONTELLAS The Montellas, in spite of their being the owners of a mansion in Portland Place, chose to occupy a flat in Knightsbridge, and to let their house to someone who had more use for the magnificent rooms and galleries than themselves. Ten years ago they had been renowned for their lavish hospitality and brilliant receptions; but a paralytic stroke having suddenly attacked Sir Julian when at the zenith of his popularity, they had been obliged to forego the pleasures of entertaining, and to retire into private life. The terrible affliction which had come upon her husband seemed also to have shattered Lady Montella’s health; and always more or less invalided, she seldom ventured forth into the maze of society. Whenever she made an effort to be present at some function, it was only for the sake of her son; for Lionel, being her only surviving child, was the lodestar of her existence. All her thoughts, hopes, and prayers were centred on him; and that he responded so faithfully to the influence of her training was the greatest joy she possessed. Had he proved otherwise, he would most surely have broken her heart.