back myself to read him like a book, and then I'll see how far this investment of Guyon's is worth my backing." A telegram found by Mr. Thacker on his arrival at business the next morning announced that Mr. Guyon and Mr. Streightley would lunch with him that day; and at two o'clock the meal was on the table and the _convives_ were assembled. In addition to Guyon, Streightley, and the host, there were Lord Bollindar, a pleasant old nobleman, younger brother of a deceased and uncle to a live duke, who had a limited income of two hundred a-year and lived at the rate of two thousand--never owing a penny--on the strength of the handles to his name and a perennial flow of small talk; Sir Harvey Falmer, a lieutenant in the 2d Life Guards, who had dealings with Mr. Thacker, and who was kept to lunch on the strength of a recently negotiated bill; Mr. Wuff of the Theatre Royal, Hatton Garden; and Mr. Tocsin, Q.C., the celebrated Old Bailey barrister. The lunch was admirable in itself and admirably served; and after the champagne had circulated freely, the conversation, which at first had been rather slow, improved considerably. "Doosid good champagne!" said Sir Harvey Falmer, tossing off his glassful; "that's what I always say about you, Thacker; when you give a man a drink, it's a good drink, and you give it him; don't stick it in--swipes and gooseberry, you know--as part of your balance." Mr. Thacker smiled somewhat ghastlily at this witticism; but Lord Bollindar came to the rescue by saying, "Good, good! devilish smart, Falmer! but you fellas are in clover now. Why, I reckleckt the Dook--you reckleckt the Dook, Mr. Streightley?" "I--I beg your pardon--the Duke?" "Dook of Wellington I mean. He used to say, 'Hang your still champagne!'--only his Grace used a stronger term--'Hang your still champagne! Champagne without froth is like man without woman!' Said so indeed, begad!" "Did he indeed?" said Mr. Tocsin in his strident voice: "I should have liked to have had his Grace under cross-examination to prove that." "I don't think you'd have made much of him, Tocsin," said Mr. Thacker, "What do you think, Mr. Streightley?" "I? I can't say, of course, so far as my knowledge of his Grace was concerned; but I'm sure--that--the presence of ladies elevates--and refines--and----" "Of course it does," cried Mr. Wuff. "Put on a fellow--I mean a male fellow--to dance, and see where you are. Patron of mine--noble lord who shall be nameless--said to me the other night, 'Never again, Wuff; never again. Many petticoats as you like; but if ever I see again a fellow in a low-necked dress with grapes in his hair dancing at your theatre, damme, I leave the house.'"