He was not at all a typical brewer in appearance, his tall, imposing figure being clothed in no superfluous flesh, his face, with its peculiarly set expression, being pale and handsome. His black hair, worn rather long, after the fashion of the day, was brushed smoothly from his temples; he was shaved but for the close-growing whiskers, which reached half-way down his cheeks. "To what are we indebted for the honour of so early a call?" he inquired with a twist of his in-drawn lips. "You were off before I was down this morning," the young man said. "I just looked in to tell you I was going out. That's all." "You look in rather frequently on the same errand, I believe. Would it be indiscreet on my part to ask where you are going?" "Not in the least," Reggie declared easily. He lifted for his brother's inspection a pair of skates which he had held dangling at his side. "They've flooded the meadows at Tooley. The ice ought to be in first-rate order, this morning." "So it is in the moat at home. Half a score people were skating there already as I drove away this morning. Tooley is five miles off. Why need you take the trouble to go to Tooley?" "Several people, last night, said they were going. I thought I might as well go too." "Where were you last night, Reggie? I don't want to tie you at home, by any means, but sometimes I like to know where you have been." "All right, Francis. Of course. There was a dance at the Days' in Queen Anne Street. I've gone to it every New Year's Night, for years. I went there." "I see." The light hazel eyes of Sir Francis, according strangely with his black hair and palely dusky complexion, considered his brother's cheerful countenance. "I'm going to ask you not to go to the Days' in Queen Anne Street any more, Reggie," he said. Reggie widely stared. "I don't think my going there, when I wish, and they ask me, can do any harm to any one," he protested. "Sit down, will you?" his brother said, and pointed to the chair on the other side of the table by which he sat. "I think not, now. I think I'll be off. The ice mayn't keep--" The other still pointed to the chair. "What I want to say to you won't keep--emphatically. Sit down," he said, and down Reggie sat. He was by no means embarrassed, or afraid. His brother had stood to him in place of a father since his own father had died when he was a boy at school, but he lectured him as little as possible, and very rarely thwarted him. "Get over it as quick as you can, Francis," was all he said. "Did you meet Mr. Day going away as you came in?" "Mr. Day? No." "He has just left me. He came to tell me that you," he looked during a moment's pause in Reggie's wide eyes, "were engaged to be married to his daughter." "Well! Come! That's a good 'un!" Reggie was surprised, his brother saw, but not so satisfactorily taken aback as he had hoped. "Is it so?" "No." "Then, what did the man mean by daring to say it to me?"