There was an abashed silence when little Mr. Binney entered and flung his cap and gown on a chair. "Good evening, Mr. Binney," said Blathgowrie. "We are engaged in a quiet game of whist. Could you make it convenient to call on another occasion?" "Don't mention it, my lord; don't mention it," said Mr. Binney. "I'll make myself comfortable and look on. I should like to see whist played. It is a game I am unacquainted with, although I recollect when I was a young fellow Snap and Old Maid used to be favourite games in the family circle." "They're favourite games up here," said Blathgowrie, "and so are Hunt the Slipper and Puss in the Corner. We'll play Puss in the Corner when we've finished this, and you shall be poor pussy. What, not going yet, Astley!" But first one and then another of Blathgowrie's friends was afraid he must be going, and in ten minutes he was alone with Mr. Binney, putting up the cards with unimpaired cheerfulness. "I'm very sorry I've disturbed your game," said Mr. Binney, whom this wholesale exodus had considerably amazed. "Not at all, Mr. Binney, not at all. My friends are in the habit of retiring to rest early. They're all anxious to catch the worm to-morrow, you know." "Don't call me Mr. Binney," said Peter; "call me Binney. We're of the same standing, you know." "So we are, Binney," acquiesced Blathgowrie. "Well, Binney, how do you find yourself? Pretty well, thank you?" Mr. Binney began to grow suspicious. "I hope, sir, I'm not intruding on you," he began. "Well, Binney," said Blathgowrie, "to tell you the plain truth, you do intrude confoundedly." Mr. Binney started up out of his chair. "Pray sit down, Binney," said Blathgowrie. "I am commissioned by my friends and your son's--Lucy's, you know--to tell you we consider you're behaving in a devilish mean and shabby manner to him. He's done his best for you, you know, but to tell you the truth we don't care for you, Binney. You're not quite our sort, you know---a year or two older perhaps--and we really can't have you poking in your nose where you're not wanted. There are plenty of nice quiet Johnnies about who'll be very pleased to make your acquaintance, especially if you feed them well, but speaking for the unworthy people whom you honour with your attentions at present, I beg to inform you that they are declined with thanks." Mr. Binney arose in his wrath. He was somewhat violent and altogether incoherent. Blathgowrie handed him his cap and gown and opened the door for him. "Good-night, Binney," he said, "mind the step;" and Mr. Binney disappeared down the staircase. CHAPTER VII MR. BINNEY SPEAKS AT THE UNION AND MAKES A DISTINGUISHED ACQUAINTANCE