"If the bye-laws of this town were worth a bilberry," he was saying, "about a thousand so-called houses would have to come down to-morrow. Now there’s that old woman I was talking about just now—Hullins. She ’s a Catholic—and my governess is always slumming about among Catholics—that’s how I know. She ’s paid half a crown a week for pretty near half a century for a hovel that isn’t worth eighteen pence, and now she’s going to be pitched into the street because she can’t pay any more. And she ’s seventy if she ’s a day! And that’s the basis of society. Nice, refined society, eh?" "Who’s the grasping owner?" some one asked. "Old Mrs. Codleyn," said Fearns. "Here, Mr. Machin, they ’re talking about you," said the Secretary and Steward genially. He knew that Denry collected Mrs. Codleyn’s rents. "Mrs. Codleyn is n’t the owner," Denry called out across the room, almost before he was aware what he was doing. There was a smile on his face and a glass in his hand. "Oh!" said Fearns. "I thought she was. Who is?" Everybody looked inquisitively at the renowned Machin, the new member. "I am," said Denry. He had concealed the change of ownership from the Widow Hullins. In his quality of owner he could not have lent her money in order that she might pay it instantly back to himself. "I beg your pardon," said Fearns, with polite sincerity. "I’d no idea!..." He saw that unwittingly he had come near to committing a gross outrage on club etiquette. "Not at all!" said Denry. "But supposing the cottage was _yours_, what should _you_ do, Mr. Fearns? Before I bought the property I used to lend her money myself to pay her rent." "I know," Fearns answered with a certain dryness of tone. It occurred to Denry that the lawyer knew too much. "Well, what should you do?" he repeated obstinately. "She ’s an old woman," said Fearns. "And honest enough, you must admit. She came up to see my governess, and I happened to see her." "But what should you do in my place?" Denry insisted. "Since you ask, I should lower the rent, and let her off the arrears," said Fearns. "And supposing she didn’t pay then? Let her have it rent free, because she’s seventy? Or pitch her into the streets?" "Oh— Well——" "Fearns would make her a present of the blooming house and give her a conveyance free!" a voice said humorously, and everybody laughed. "Well, that’s what I ’ll do," said Denry. "If Mr. Fearns will do the conveyance free, I ’ll make her a present of the blooming house. That’s the sort of grasping owner I am." There was a startled pause. "I mean it," said Denry firmly, even fiercely, and raised his glass. "Here’s to the Widow Hullins!"