"Jim,--does this make any difference between you and me?" I asked, crossing over to him on the spongy floor of hoof parings and steel filings. "Does it, Jim?" He caught me by the shoulders, in his old, rough way, and looked into my face. Then he smiled sadly and shook his head. "No, George, no! You're different: you always were different; you are the same straight, honest George Brammerton to me;--still the same." "Then, Jim, you will let me try to do something here? You will promise me not to get into personal contact with Harry,--at least until I have seen him and spoken with him. Not that he does not deserve a dog's hiding, but I should like to see him and talk with him first." "Why should I promise that?" he asked sharply. "For one thing,--because, doubtless, Harry is home now. And again, there is going to be a week-end House Party at our place. Harry's engagement of marriage with Lady Rosemary Granton is to be announced; and Lady Rosemary will be there. "It would only mean trouble for you, Jim;--and, God knows, this is trouble enough." "What do I care for trouble?" he cried defiantly. "What trouble can make me more unhappy than I now am?" "You must avoid further trouble for Peggy's sake," I interposed. "Jim,--let me see Harry first. Do what you like afterwards. Promise me, Jim." He swallowed his anger. "God!--it will be a hard promise to keep if ever I come across him. But I do promise, just because I like you, George, as I hate him." "May I keep this meantime?" I asked, holding up Harry's letter to Peggy. "No! Give it to me. I might need it." "But I might find greater use for it, Jim. Won't you let me have it, for a time at least?" "Oh! all right, all right," he answered, spreading his hands over his leather apron. I left him there amid the roar of the fire and the odour of sizzling hoofs, and wended my way slowly up the dust-laden hill, back home, having forgotten entirely, in the great sorrow that had fallen, to tell Jim my object in calling on him that day. CHAPTER IV Viscount Harry, Captain of the Guards On nearing home, I noticed the "Flying Dandy," Harry's favourite horse, standing at the front entrance in charge of a groom. "Hello, Wally," I shouted in response to the groom's salute and broad grin. "Is Captain Harry home?" "Yes, sir! Three hours agone, sir. 'E's just agoing for a canter, sir, for the good of 'is 'ealth." I went inside. "Hi! William," I cried to the retreating figure of our portly and aristocratic butler. "Where's Harry?" "Captain Harry, sir, is in the armoury. Any message, sir?" "No! it is all right, William. I shall go along in and see him."