“I thought you'd be surprised,” Dominey observed coolly. “However, that's neither here nor there. The business object of my visit to you this morning is to ask you to make arrangements as quickly as possible for paying off the mortgages on the Dominey estates.” Mr. Mangan was a lawyer of the new-fashioned school,--Harrow and Cambridge, the Bath Club, racquets and fives, rather than golf and lawn tennis. Instead of saying “God bless my soul!” he exclaimed “Great Scott!” dropped a very modern-looking eyeglass from his left eye, and leaned back in his chair with his hands in his pockets. “I have had three or four years of good luck,” his client continued. “I have made money in gold mines, in diamond mines and in land. I am afraid that if I had stayed out another year, I should have descended altogether to the commonplace and come back a millionaire.” “My heartiest congratulations!” Mr. Mangan found breath to murmur. “You'll forgive my being so astonished, but you are the first Dominey I ever knew who has ever made a penny of money in any sort of way, and from what I remember of you in England--I'm sure you'll forgive my being so frank--I should never have expected you to have even attempted such a thing.” Dominey smiled good-humouredly. “Well,” he said, “if you inquire at the United Bank of Africa, you will find that I have a credit balance there of something over a hundred thousand pounds. Then I have also--well, let us say a trifle more, invested in first-class mines. Do me the favour of lunching with me, Mr. Mangan, and although Africa will never be a favourite topic of conversation with me, I will tell you about some of my speculations.” The solicitor groped around for his hat. “I will send the boy for a taxi,” he faltered. “I have a car outside,” this astonishing client told him. “Before we leave, could you instruct your clerk to have a list of the Dominey mortgages made out, with the terminable dates and redemption values?” “I will leave instructions,” Mr. Mangan promised. “I think that the total amount is under eighty thousand pounds.” Dominey sauntered through the office, an object of much interest to the little staff of clerks. The lawyer joined him on the pavement in a few minutes. “Where shall we lunch?” Dominey asked. “I'm afraid my clubs are a little out of date. I am staying at the Carlton.” “The Carlton grill room is quite excellent,” Mr. Mangan suggested. “They are keeping me a table until half-past one,” Dominey replied. “We will lunch there, by all means.” They drove off together, the returned traveller gazing all the time out of the window into the crowded streets, the lawyer a little thoughtful. “While I think of it, Sir Everard,” the latter said, as they drew near their destination. “I should be glad of a short conversation with you before you go down to Dominey.” “With regard to anything in particular?” “With regard to Lady Dominey,” the lawyer told him a little gravely.