"Well, dear old boy, minds innocent and quiet may take that for a Hermitage if they like; but I, who have drunk as much wine, good and bad, as most men, immediately recognised the familiar Beaujolais which we get at the club for a shilling a pint. So that altogether I'm very nearly poisoned; and I think I shouldn't have come out if I had not wanted to see you particularly." "What is it, Algy? Some of that tremendously important business which always takes up so much of your time?" "No, no; now you're chaffing, Caterham. 'Pon my word I really do a great deal in the course of the day, walking about, and talking to fellows, and that sort of thing: there are very few fellows who think what a lot I get through; but I know myself." "Do you? then you've learned a great thing--'know thyself' one of the great secrets of life;" and Caterham sighed. "Yes, dear old boy," said Algy "'know thyself, but never introduce a friend;' that I believe to be sterling philosophy. This is a confoundedly back-slapping age; every body is a deuced sight too fond of every body else; there is an amount of philanthropy about which is quite terrible." "Yes, and you're about the largest-hearted and most genial philanthropist in the world; you know you are." "I, dear old boy? I am Richard Crookback; I am the uncle of the Babes in the Wood; I am Timon the Tartar of Athens, or whatever his name was; I am a ruthless hater of all my species, when I have the _vin triste_, as I have this morning. O, that reminds me--the business I came to see you about. What a fellow you are, Caterham! always putting things out of fellows' heads!" "Well, what is it now?" "Why, old Ampthill is dead at last. Died last night; his man told my man this morning." "Well, what then?" "What then? Why, don't you recollect what we talked about? about his leaving his money to dear old Lionel?" "Yes," said Caterham, looking grave, "I recollect that." "I wonder whether any good came of it? It would be a tremendously jolly thing to get dear old Lionel back, with plenty of money, and in his old position, wouldn't it?" "Look here, my dear Algy," said Lord Caterham; "let us understand each other once for all on this point. You and I are of course likely to differ materially on such a subject. You are a man of the world, going constantly into the world, with your own admirable good sense influenced by and impressed with the opinions of society. Society, as you tell me, is pleased to think my brother's--well, crime--there's no other word!--my brother's crime a venial one, and will be content to receive him back again, and to instal him in his former position if he comes back prepared to sacrifice to Society by spending his time and money on it!"