“I’m coming up to town in the autumn to read for the Bar. Then I shall have as good time as is possible for a man with no money.” “What do you call no money?” I asked. I knew the amount of his income to a penny. “Eight hundred a year. A fellow can’t do much on that.” I laughed outright. “Eight hundred a year is a fortune to a man with no encumbrances, especially in town.” “Well, I can’t exactly say I haven’t got any encumbrances. There is this place to be looked after. Not that I do much towards it, I’m bound to say. I should like to sell it, but my sister likes it and as she lives here she does most of the keeping-up.” I strolled down the road with him. He was rather the worse for the amount he had drunk, and hiccoughed slightly as he affectionately bade me good-night and assured me that he would be round the first thing in the morning. Leaning out of the little inn bedroom I considered the question of accepting his invitation to lunch. So far I had withheld my identity. If I went to the house on the morrow I could no longer conceal the fact that I was a relation. When they knew who I was, it might or it might not make my task more difficult, and by this my action must be guided entirely. I finally came to the decision that I could not expect to gain any access to young Gascoyne unless I followed up the acquaintance. It was quite possible that when he discovered who I was he might drop me at once. I was a relation, certainly, but my comparatively humble origin on my father’s side would not, I imagined, make me very acceptable. Besides, I had gathered that Miss Gascoyne was very proud. She was of good family on both sides, and the villagers spoke of her as being cold and haughty. She hardly sounded like the kind of woman who would forgive a Gascoyne a mésalliance. It was obvious that I must make her brother thoroughly understand who I was before I accepted his invitation. There was another point to be considered. Mr. Gascoyne was their uncle, and I knew that his brother had not been on good terms with him because he had married a tradesman’s daughter, although from what I had seen of Mrs. Gascoyne, she had seemed to be quite fit to take her place in any family. Mr. Gascoyne might be offended if I became acquainted with his nephew and niece. I knew from one or two chance remarks which he had let fall that he bitterly resented the fact that they had never made any sign of wishing to become reconciled. I was a little astonished at this, because, after all, Mr. Gascoyne had money to leave, and I should not have thought that Harry Gascoyne was the sort of youth to allow scruples born of family pride to stand in the way of a possible access of riches. Perhaps I should discover more in the morning, that is, if my very distant cousin did not forget all about his invitation, given at a moment when he was not quite sober.