"Perfection? Oh, of course! That's universal. But it's not enough." He lay back comfortably in his armchair, enjoying his cigar. "Not enough, my boy! I may have two horses, and you may have two horses, and each of my horses may be better than either of your horses; but when we come to driving them, you may have the better pair. Two good 'uns don't always make a good pair." He grew quite interested in his subject--thanks, perhaps, to the figure in which he clothed it. "They've got to match--both their paces and their ways. They've got to go kindly together, to like the feel of one another, don't you know? Each of 'em may be as good as you like single, but they may make--by Jove, yes!--the devil of a bad pair! It's double harness we're talking about, Blake, my boy. Oh, you may think I know nothing about it, but I've seen a bit---- Well, that's not a thing I boast about; but I have seen a bit, you know." "That's just what I've been thinking," said young Blake sagaciously. He referred to Caylesham's doctrines, not his experiences. "Oh, you've been thinking, have you?" smiled Caylesham. "Come a mucker then, I suppose?" "I--I miscalculated. Well, we must all learn by experience." "Devilish lucky if we can!" "There's no other way," Blake insisted. "Have I said there is?" He looked at Blake in an amused knowledge. "Going in for the straight thing this time?" Half in pride, half in shame, Blake answered: "Yes." "Quite right too!" Caylesham was very approving. "Well, if you say so----" began Blake, laughing. "Quite right for you, I mean." There was a touch of contempt somewhere in his tone. "But don't forget what I've been saying. It's double harness, my boy! Pace, my boy, and temper, and the feel--the feel! All the things a fellow never thinks about!" "Well, you're a pretty preacher on this subject!" "I've heard a lot of things you never have. Oh, well, you may have once, perhaps." His glance was very acute, and Blake flushed under it. "You're well out of that affair," Caylesham went on, dropping his mask of ignorance. "Oh, I don't want to know how it happened. I expect I can guess." "What do you mean?" Blake's voice sounded angry. "You funked it--eh?" It was a strong thing to say to a man in your own house. But a sudden gust of impatience had swept Caylesham away. The young man was in the end so contemptible, so incapable of strength, such a blarney over his weakness. "Now don't glare at me; I'm not afraid. You tackled too big a job, I fancy. Oh, I'm not asking questions, you know." He got up and patted Blake's shoulder. "Don't mind me. You're doing quite right. Hope you won't find it devilish dull!" Blake's bad temper vanished. He began to laugh. "That's right," said Caylesham. "I'm too old to convert, and nearly too old to fight; but I'll be your best man, Walter." "It'll keep me straight, Caylesham." "Lord bless you, so it will!" He chuckled in irrepressible amusement. "The other thing's no go!"