“But fortunately,” he said, “your aunt, the accomplished artist, was able to help me, and I feel under no little obligation to her—and you.” In this graceful and gentlemanly way he spoke to me. He told me that the staff was very large and included men of all ages—many brilliant and some ordinary. “You will begin work in the Country Department,” he said; “they are a bit rough-and-ready up there, I fancy, but I speak only from hearsay. Certain adventurous members of the Board have penetrated to those savage regions, though I cannot honestly say that I have ever ventured. After signing a hundred or two policies, my intellect reels and I have to totter over to Murch’s for turtle-soup. It is a curious fact that turtle restores brain-fag quicker than any other form of food.” “I am glad it has such a good effect on you, sir,” I said. Miss Pepys left when the magnificent dessert was served. She never touched so much as a grape, though they were the largest I had ever seen; and after she had gone, Mr. Pepys asked me to smoke. Knowing, of course, that a cigarette is nothing on a full stomach, and also knowing that my own stomach was now perfectly adapted for it, I consented, and had a priceless box of chased silver containing rare Egyptian cigarettes handed to me by one of the footmen. With it he brought a lamp, which appeared to be—and very likely was—of solid gold. We then had coffee; and when all was over, Mr. Benyon Pepys proposed that we should again join Miss Benyon Pepys; so we returned to the drawing-room and he showed me a portfolio of his etchings. They were black and grubby and mysterious and no doubt great masterpieces, if I had only understood them. Even as it was, I rather came off over the etchings and recognised many things about them in a way that everybody didn’t. At least, I gathered so from the fact that Mr. Benyon Pepys was surprised and pleased. He said that “chiaroscuro” was the secret of his success, and no doubt it may have been. He praised my Aunt Augusta very highly; and I was exceedingly glad to hear him speak so well of her great genius in her art. At ten o’clock I got up to go, and a footman whistled at the door for a cab, and I luckily had a sixpence which I pressed into his hand as I leapt into the cab. But the effect was spoiled, because I forgot my overcoat and had to leap out again. The footman helped me into it, but didn’t mention the sixpence. I dare say to him it was a thing of nought. So I returned to Aunt Augusta’s flat, and told her all about the wonders of the evening; and she was pleased and said that she hoped Mr. Benyon Pepys would some day ask me again. But no such thing happened. And, of course, there was no reason why it should. Probably they _did_ hear what I said about the diary, but were too highly born and refined to take any notice. III