Smiling, he slowly answered: “I wouldn’t if I were sure about my dollars.” She did not reply, but glanced down, not with coquetry, but because she could not stand the furnace of his eyes. “You said a moment ago,” she ventured, “that you have had one big moment in your life. Oughtn’t it to bring you good fortune?” “It will--it will,” he said, reaching his hand towards hers. “No, no,” she rejoined archly. “I am going. Please do not follow me.” Then, over her shoulder, as she left him: “If you have luck, I shall want a subscription for my hospital.” “As many thousands as you like,” he answered: then, as she sped away: “I will have her, and the millions too!” adding reminiscently: “Yes, Lady Lawless, this is my biggest deal.” He tramped to the stables, asked for and got a horse, and rode away to the railway station. It was dinner time when he got back. He came down to dinner late, apologising to Lady Lawless as he did so. Glancing across the table at Mr. Pride, he saw a peculiar excited look in the young man’s face. “The baby fool!” he said to himself. “He’s getting into mischief. I’ll startle him. If he knows that an army of his dollars is playing at fox-and-geese, he’ll not make eyes at Lady Lawless this way--little ass.” Lady Lawless appeared oblivious of the young man’s devotional exercises. She was engaged on a more congenial theme. In spite of Miss Raglan’s excellent acting, she saw that something had occurred. Mr. Vandewaters was much the same as usual, save that his voice had an added ring. She was not sure that all was right; but she was determined to know. Sir Duke was amused generally. He led a pretty by-play with Mrs. Gregory Thorne, of whom he asked the details of the day, much to the confusion, not admirably hid, of Mr. Pride; lamenting now and then Mr. Vandewaters’s absence from the shooting. Mr. Vandewaters was cool enough. He said that he had been playing at nine-pins with railways, which was good enough sport for him. Soon after dinner, he was handed two telegrams. He glanced slowly up at Pride, as if debating whether to tell him something. He evidently decided against it, and, excusing himself by saying he was off to take a little walk in Wall Street, went away to the telegraph office, where he stayed three hours. The magnitude of the concerns, the admirable stoicism with which he received alarming news, his dry humour while they waited between messages--all were so unlike anything the telegraph-clerk had ever seen, or imagined, that the thing was like a preposterous dream. Even when, at last, a telegram came which the clerk vaguely felt was, somehow, like the fall of an empire, Mr. Vandewaters remained unmoved. Then he sent one more telegram, gave the clerk a pound, asked that the reply be sent to him as soon as it came, and went away, calmly smoking his cigar.