“To tell you the truth I find him rather ponderous at all times!” she said with a laugh. “Didn’t you say once that altitudes were oppressive? Well, I must go and be oppressed!” She held out her hand as she spoke, and then paused. “Oh, by-the-bye,” she said, “Julian wants you to come and dine one day next week--only he’s so much engaged. Which day will suit you?” “Thanks!” answered Loring. “I shall be charmed!” His face was quite impassive as he spoke, but he was wondering nevertheless whether Julian had as yet heard of the invitation. From what he had observed lately, he fancied that Julian had reasons of his own for avoiding home engagements. “I am engaged on Tuesday and Thursday,” he continued, “but on any other day I shall be delighted. Did Julian have a successful evening yesterday?” Mrs. Romayne had explained to him on the previous night with forced merriment that her son was “dining with a fellow, he says!” “Yes, I think so!” she answered lightly. “I don’t know which ‘fellow’ it was, you know. Well, then, I will send you a note.” They had moved out into the hall as they talked, and now as she paused at the foot of the stairs he shook hands again, and went out of the house as she turned and went up to the drawing-room. Dennis Falconer was standing waiting by the fire. “Most punctual of men!” she said airily as they shook hands. “How do you do?” Dennis Falconer had by this time had five months of inaction and ill-health, and the fact that he was heartily weary of both by no means served to soften the natural tendency of his manner towards reserve and severity. In settling down to London life for the winter, too, the fact that he was no longer a new lion gave an added tinge of monotony to existence for him, honestly unconscious as he was of this truth. The days went very heavily with him; he was conscious of having come to a dreary bit of his life’s journey, and he endured it conscientiously--if with rather self-conscious self-respect. An added gravity and silence seemed to him under the circumstances by no means to be deprecated. Under these circumstances the contrast between him and Mrs. Romayne as they exchanged the trivialities of the situation was inexpressible, and it was not surprising that they touched almost instantly upon the business which was the cause of their interview. It was not a long affair; it turned upon Mrs. Romayne’s desire to have rather more ready money at her command; and Dennis Falconer, having explained the situation to her; having stated his views, evidently conscientiously compelled thereto; and having entered a formal protest against her instructions; returned to his pocket the notebook to which he had been referring as if to emphasize the close of the matter. Then he paused. Mrs. Romayne had drawn a quick, slight breath of relief at his action, but the breath seemed to suspend itself for an instant on this pause, and the eyes with which she watched his were very bright and intent.