“Nothing particular. I don't suppose you care for the Cattle Show or the Royal Irish Academy?” “Not much,--at least, I can postpone my inquiries about them. How about my place here? Are you going to give me trouble about it?” “Your place,--your place?” muttered the other, once or twice; and then, standing up with his back to the fire, and his skirts over his arms, he went on. “Do you want to hear the truth about this affair, or are we only to go on sparring with the gloves, eh?” “The truth, of course, if such a novel proceeding should not be too much of a shock to you.” “No, I suspect not. I do a little of everything every day just to keep my hand in.” “Well, go on now, out with this truth.” “Well, the truth is,--I am now speaking confidentially,--if I were you I 'd not press my claim to that appointment,--do you perceive?” “I do not; but perhaps I may when you have explained yourself a little more fully.” “And,” continued he, in the same tone, and as though no interruption had occurred, “that's the opinion of Halkett, and Doyle, and Jocelyn, and the rest.” “Confidentially, of course,” said Sewell, with a sneer so slight as not to be detected. “I may say confidentially, because it was at dinner we talked it over, and we were only the household,--no guests but Byam Herries and Barrington.” “And you all agreed?” “Yes, there was not a dissentient voice but Jocelyn's, who said, if he were in your place, he'd insist on having all the papers and letters given up to him. His view is this: 'What security have I that the same charges are not to be renewed again and again? I submit now, but am I always to submit? Are my Indian'--(what shall I call them? I forget what he called them; I believe it was escapades)--'my Indian escapades to declare me unfit to hold anything under the Crown?' He said a good deal in that strain, but we did not see it. It was hard, to be sure, but we did not see it. As Halkett said, 'Sewell has had his innings already in India. If, with a pretty wife and a neat turn for billiards, he did not lay by enough to make his declining years comfortable, I must say that he was not provident.' Doyle, however, remarked that after that affair with Loftus up at Agra--wasn't it Agra?”--Sewell nodded--“it was n't so easy for you to get along as many might think, and that you were a devilish clever fellow to do what you had done. Doyle likes you, I think.” Sewell nodded again, and, after a slight pause, Balfour proceeded: “And it was Doyle, too, said, 'Why not try for something in the colonies? There are lots of places a man can go and nothing be ever heard of him. If I was Sewell, I 'd say, Make me a barrackmaster in the Sandwich Islands, or a consul in the Caraccas.'