Miss Nugent looked him over critically before replying. “He seems to have taken a great fancy to you,” she remarked. Mr. Wilks smiled a satisfied smile. “He came to ask my advice about business,” he said, softly. “He’s ’eard two or three speak o’ me as knowing a thing or two, and being young, and just starting, ’e came to talk it over with me. I never see a young man so pleased and ready to take advice as wot he is.” “He is coming again for more, I suppose?” said Miss Nugent, carelessly. Mr. Wilks acquiesced. “And he asked me to go over to his ’ouse to smoke a pipe with ’im on Tuesday,” he added, in the casual manner in which men allude to their aristocratic connections. “He’s a bit lonely, all by himself.” Miss Nugent said, “Indeed,” and then, lapsing into silence, gave little occasional side-glances at Mr. Wilks, as though in search of any hidden charms about him which might hitherto have escaped her. At the same time Mr. James Hardy, walking slowly home by the edge of the sea, pondered on further ways and means of ensnaring the affection of the ex-steward. CHAPTER VII The anticipations of Mr. Wilks were more than realized on the following Tuesday. From the time a trim maid showed him into the smoking-room until late at night, when he left, a fêted and honoured guest, with one of his host’s best cigars between his teeth, nothing that could yield him any comfort was left undone. In the easiest of easy chairs he sat in the garden beneath the leafy branches of apple trees, and undiluted wisdom and advice flowed from his lips in a stream as he beamed delightedly upon his entertainer. Their talk was mainly of Sunwich and Sunwich people, and it was an easy step from these to Equator Lodge. On that subject most people would have found the ex-steward somewhat garrulous, but Jem Hardy listened with great content, and even brought him back to it when he showed signs of wandering. Altogether Mr. Wilks spent one of the pleasantest evenings of his life, and, returning home in a slight state of mental exhilaration, severely exercised the tongues of Fullalove Alley by a bearing considered incompatible with his station. [Illustration: “Undiluted wisdom and advice flowed from his lips.”] Jem Hardy paid a return call on the following Friday, and had no cause to complain of any lack of warmth in his reception. The ex-steward was delighted to see him, and after showing him various curios picked up during his voyages, took him to the small yard in the rear festooned with scarlet-runner beans, and gave him a chair in full view of the neighbours. “I’m the only visitor tonight?” said Hardy, after an hour’s patient listening and waiting. Mr. Wilks nodded casually. “Miss Kate came last night,” he said. “Friday _is_ her night, but she came yesterday instead.” Mr. Hardy said, “Oh, indeed,” and fell straight-way into a dismal reverie from which the most spirited efforts of his host only partially aroused him.