"Indeed it is," answered Casteno earnestly. "Why, it is true Bruno Delganni only left about a million, but that million he left was in land near Leeds which had not at the time been exploited. Since his death it has been opened up, developed, and sold with remarkable care and skill, with the result that, aided by other benefactions, the Order to-day is enormously wealthy. It was computed a short time ago that if we divided the property amongst the members for any reason, say a terrific European war with England where the cash might in a patriotic sense be useful, we should each receive about seventy-five thousand pounds. "And perhaps, what is more to the point just now, you will now become entitled to a share of that amount. In fact, we St Bruno-ites boast and know we shall never want money for any good purpose either for ourselves or our friends. We have only to apply to the three rulers we have, whom we call the Council of Three, to get it. "For instance, when I am married I shall ask their assistance, and I am sure they will yield it to me with great pleasure, and that they will allot my bride and myself such a handsome wedding portion that neither she nor I will ever want the means of keeping up a perfectly respectable and well-balanced position in society. Why, there are to-day five or six members of Parliament who are St Bruno-ites, and where do you think they get the means from to win their different constituencies and to keep up their seats? From the Order, of course; and yet they never set foot inside these walls or write a line to the Council of Three from year's end to year's end. The money they require is put to their credit at their particular bank regularly every quarter, and all they do is to send to the Council of Three every New Year's Day a small slip bearing the words: `Ready, ay ready,' with the date, and their ordinary signatures." "And shall I be entitled to similar consideration?" I queried, blundering into a foolish, selfish question out of sheer nervousness. "Of course you will," answered Casteno, smilingly; "all are equal in this house--there are no favourites. The idea is that everybody wants everybody else to be perfectly happy and comfortable. You can come when you like; you can go when you like. Once in the house, of course, as a resident you have to submit yourself to the semi-monastic rule we affect, but you will find even that very good and helpful to you--yes, even the strikingly distinctive dress we wear--for it will serve to recall to you the sacred duties of patriotism which you have undertaken. It will accustom you, in a way, to your own ideal." "But why is the place so unlike a monastery?" I asked, stopping suddenly and pointing to some of the beautiful modern pictures which adorned the walls. "Look at these lovely works of art! There is nothing grim, nothing austere, nothing of self-sacrifice in these."