At dinner, Daniel surpassed himself. He told admirable stories, he started just the right topics, and dealt with them in the right way; he seemed to know intuitively the habits of thought of each person he addressed. The hostess was radiant; Olga looked almost happy; Irene, after a seeming struggle with herself, which an unkind observer might have attributed to displeasure at being rivalled in talk, yielded to the cheery influence, and held her own against the visitor in wit and merriment. Not till half-past ten did Daniel resolve to tear himself away. His thanks to Mrs. Hannaford for an "enjoyable evening" were spoken with impressive sincerity, and the lady's expression of hope that they might meet again made his face shine. Piers accompanied him to the station. After humming to himself for a few moments, as they walked along the dark lane, Daniel slipped a hand through his brother's arm and spoke affectionately. "You don't know how glad I am that we have met, old boy! Now don't let us lose sight of each other--By the bye, do you ever hear of Alec?" Alexander, Jerome Otway's second son, had not communicated with his father for a good many years. His reputation was that of a good-natured wastrel. Piers replied that he knew nothing whatever of him. "He is in London," pursued Daniel, "and he is rather anxious to meet _you_. Now let me give you a word of warning. Alec isn't at all a bad sort. I confess I like him, for all his faults--and unfortunately he has plenty of them; but to you, Piers, he would be dangerous. Dangerous, first of all, because of his want of principle--you know my feelings on that point. Then, I'm afraid he knows of your little inheritance, and he _might_--I don't say he would--but he might be tempted to presume upon your good nature. You understand?" "What is he doing?" Piers inquired. "Nothing worth speaking of, I fear. Alec has no stability--so unlike you and me in that. You and I inherit the brave old man's love of work; Alec was born an idler. If I thought you might influence him for good--but no, it is too risky. One doesn't like to speak so of a brother, Piers, but I feel it my duty to warn you against poor Alec. _Basta_!" That night Piers did not close his eyes. The evening's excitement and the unusual warmth of the weather enhanced the feverishness due to his passionate thoughts. Before daybreak he rose and tried to read, but no book would hold his attention. Again he flung himself on to the bed, and lay till sunrise vainly groaning for sleep. With the new day came a light rain, which threatened to continue. Dullness ruled at breakfast. The cousins spoke fitfully of what they might do if the rain ceased. "A good time for work," said Irene to Piers. "But perhaps it's all the same to you, rain or shine? "Much the same," Piers answered mechanically.