"So so!" answered Butts with a sigh. "Tucker's all right--but it's so cursed lonely. Master never goes out, except to meals, and it's very seldom he hever has any company here, honly about once a month." "Oh! a bit of a hermit, eh?" "A bloomin' misanthrope--that's what I call him! He 'ates noise like poison. Hif I was to drop a plate 'e'd ring to know what the devil I meant by it?" "Married?" "No. He 'ates women wors'n noise, I believe." "How does he pass his time?" "Reads all day--half the night too." "What does he want with a valet, then?" "You'll soon find out," said Butts with a snort of contempt. "Please tell me." Butts wagged his head. "Bar shavin' him you won't 'ave much to do, 'cept give him his medicines at the proper hours. He's a sick man is Sir William Dagmar! The last valet 'e had here, Joe Bates, was a real smart un he was. He'd done for Lord X---- and Mr. Francis, and a lot more tip-toppers. He was just celebrated for fixing hevenin' dress ties; and Sir William always wears ready made ones to save trouble. Bates got the miserables in a week, an' hup an' cleared out before the fortnight was up." "What is the matter with Sir William?" "Consumption! He's got it bad!" "Oh! is he rich?" "Rich as Croesus." "Any relatives?" "A cousin he 'ates wors'n noise and wors'n women. A young chap name o' Sefton Dagmar. He's heir to the title, but I'm not thinkin' he'll get much o' the splosh. Sir William's got it all in Government bonds and he can leave it as he likes." "What is this Sefton Dagmar like?" "Not a bad sort. He's always haffable enough to me. He lives at Newhaven, but he calls here once in a while to see how Sir William is. But he hardly ever sees him. Hi! there's master's bell--I'll be back in a minute." As soon as Butts had disappeared I gave my appetite free rein and a very hearty meal I made. He was absent a quarter of an hour, and on his return he wore a look of annoyance. "Nuisance!" he began. "He's halways worriting about this time. He's goin' to give a dinner party to-morrow night. He gives one every month. But he wants you! Hurry up, he 'ates to be kep waitin'." I was up the stairs in a twinkle, and again standing before Sir William. He looked bored to death. "Some gentlemen will dine with me to-morrow night, Brown," he drawled. "Six in all. Their names are on this paper, and their table places marked. I wish you to serve--Butts is a clumsy waiter." I received the paper with a deferential bow. "Very good, sir!" I murmured. "You will also see that card tables are arranged in the smoking room. Butts will order the dinner, he knows my ways. But you will take charge of the arrangements. You seem a capable young fellow." "Thank you, sir!" "And Brown," he frowned heavily. "Yes, sir." "Don't fill my glass too often. I am an invalid, you know, and wine does not agree with me. That is all. I shall not want you again until seven o'clock this evening, when you may dress me for dinner!"