‘I don’t know about the _junnysaker_, but I’ll allow that his clothes are a good cut,’ said the unimpressionable Piper. ‘But why the dickens do the Porkmans and Timperleys think so much of him? I shouldn’t have thought he was old Timperley’s sort.’ ‘My dear Mr. Piper, Captain Standish is the fashion.’ ‘Oh, that’s it, is it?’ said Mr. Piper, meekly. ‘Well, I like to be in the fashion as well as my neighbours. Suppose we ask Captain Thingamy to dinner? He’s not the sort of chap that would want to borrow money of one, is he, by-the-bye? It’s a way they’ve got in the army.’ ‘Captain Standish borrow money!’ cried Bella. ‘Why his mother is Lady Emmeline Standish----.’ ‘That wouldn’t fill his pockets,’ interjected Mr. Piper. ‘And his father is a partner in a great bank. I forget which, but some enormously rich bank. The Porkmans know all about it.’ ‘Oh, well, if his father is rich, he may come here as often as he likes. I’m not afraid of a rich man; but your needy fellows are always dangerous. They’re like the serpent that warms itself at your hearth, and then stings you. They eat your dinners, and wind up by getting you to put your name to an accommodation bill.’ CHAPTER XII. AT HER CHARIOT WHEELS. CAPTAIN STANDISH did not wait to be asked to dinner. He made his appearance at Little Yafford Park within a few days of his first visit. This time he rode over, and his hack was a thing to wonder at. ‘I’m blest if he ain’t the first bit of horseflesh we’ve had inside these stables!’ exclaimed Mr. Piper’s coachman, who affected to despise the pair of bays for which his master had given three hundred guineas. Mr. Piper was enjoying himself among his friends at Great Yafford. There was a club in that commercial town, at which Mr. Timperley and Mr. Porkman and their associates assembled daily to read the newspapers and discuss the money market. They were all strong politicians, and talked of politics as well as of the Stock Exchange, but they contemplated all public events from one standpoint. What would be the effect on the money market? How would this crisis in France, or this artful move on the part of Russia, or this pretty piece of business at Vienna affect the demand for cotton? Would Palmerston’s last great speech steady the price of consols?