These remarks gave rise to a new train of thought in Lydon’s mind. Were things quite satisfactory at Effington? Was this army of servants of all descriptions, footmen, gardeners and chauffeurs, perfectly justifiable? If Howard Stormont was living within his income, why should his sister be worried? Was the man one of those you so often meet with, who can make money but cannot hold it? Was he living up to the hilt, and might some sudden turn of fortune’s wheel bring him headlong to the ground? He would have liked to question Gloria a little closely on the subject, but their acquaintance was too recent for him to take such a liberty. No doubt he would learn more later on. But if it was the fact that, in his selfish desire for luxury, he was spending money as fast as he made it, and putting by nothing for a rainy day, something that had puzzled Lydon became easily capable of explanation. In this case, Gloria would not be an heiress, and her uncle had not formed any grandiose plans for her future. He would be content if she could marry a man who would keep her comfortably, and not expect any fortune with her. And, as a result of this hypothesis, Howard Stormont fell distinctly in his estimation. He was simply living for his own gratification, oblivious of those he left behind; in Lydon’s opinion, the most contemptible conduct any man could be capable of. On Monday morning the two elderly couples departed. The young man would have gone also, but on the Sunday night Stormont took him on one side and pressed him to stop another day, if his business engagements would permit. “I very rarely go up on a Monday myself, unless there is something very urgent,” he had said. “And, at my age, I think I may be permitted to allow myself a little latitude. I simply love pottering about this dear old place; although I have had it for some time now, it is still a new toy to me, after being pent up in cities nearly the whole of my working life. Stop till Tuesday morning, and we will go up together.” Lydon, nothing loath, agreed to the pleasing proposition. The Monday was the happiest day of his visit. Soon after breakfast Stormont went off on his own. Mrs. Barnard was fully occupied during the morning and afternoon, and he had Gloria practically to himself until it was time to dress for dinner. That evening in the smoking-room Lydon told his host what Hugh had disclosed in that letter which the solicitor, Shelford, had handed to him. He fancied that Stormont did not take very much interest in the matter. This, however, was hardly to be wondered at, as Hugh had always treated the man with a certain _hauteur_ which he could not have helped observing, had he been a much less intelligent person than he was. When the story was finished, Lydon learned a piece of the Clandon family history that was unknown to him. “A very remarkable family, the Clandons; I know a little about them,” he remarked.