He threw down his napkin before him as he spoke and rose from the table. The young men who had been breakfasting near him, though perhaps they might have thought him a fogey, yet envied the undeniable position he held in society; envied him, above all, the perfect freshness and good health and the evident appetite with which he had just consumed his meal, while they were listlessly playing with highly-spiced condiments, or endeavouring to quench the flame excited by the previous night's dissipation with effervescing drinks. Sir Coke Only, the great railway contractor and millionaire, whose neighbouring table was covered with prospectuses and letters on blue paper, propounding schemes in which thousands were involved, envied the Colonel that consummate air of good breeding which he, the millionaire, knew he could never acquire, and that happy idleness which never seemed in store for him. The perfectly-appointed brougham, with its bit-champing, foam-tossing gray horse, stood at the club-door, waiting to whirl the man of business into the City, where he would be unceasingly occupied till dusk; "while that feller," as Sir Coke remarked to himself, "will be lunching with marchionesses and dropping into the five o'clock tea with duchesses, and taking it as easy as though he were as rich as Rothschild." Perhaps the Colonel knew of the envy which he excited; he was certainly not disturbed, and perhaps even pleased, by it. He sauntered quietly into the waiting-room, walked to the window, and stood gazing unconsciously at the black little London sparrows hopping about in the black little bit of ground which was metropolitan for a garden, and lay between the club and Carlton House Terrace, while he collected his thoughts. Then he sat down at a table and wrote as follows: "Beaufort Club, Tuesday. "DEAR MISS STAFFORD,--The opportunity which I have been so long waiting for has at length arrived, and I think I see my way to the fulfilment of the promise made to you in the beginning of our acquaintance. "If you will be at my lawyer's chambers, No. 5, Seldon Buildings, Temple, at two o'clock this afternoon, he--Mr. John Wilson is his name--will enter into further particulars with you. I shall hear from him how he has progressed, and you will see me very shortly.--Very sincerely yours, "JOHN ORPINGTON. "P.S.--I have no doubt that Madame Clarisse will be able to spare you on your mentioning that you have business. You need not particularise its nature." Then he wrote another letter consisting of one line: "All right; let her go.--J.O." He addressed these respectively to Miss Fanny Stafford and Madame Clarisse, and despatched them to their destination.