'Good fortune, indeed!' The voice came from the depths of a low lounging-chair, in which a long-limbed, handsome youth was reclining. This was Sir Reginald Winter. He rose languidly, and went forward to meet Tom. 'When my mother has done,' he said with his sleepy smile, 'perhaps I may be allowed to shake hands with you. Many happy returns of the day! Isn't that the proper form? By Jove, though,' laughing, 'if you had more than one, there wouldn't be room for anyone else. I hear you are a millionaire.' 'I think he scarcely knows how he stands,' said Mrs. Gregory nervously. 'Of course not,' said Lady Winter. 'I believe you only heard of it yourselves last night. Some of the Eltons told _us_. Charming people the Eltons! I am positively in love with those dear girls. But such gossips. Ah!' lifting up her grey-gloved hands, 'how they can talk! If I had secrets I had rather confide them to the town-crier than to that amiable family.' 'But this is no secret,' said Mrs. Gregory, the colour mounting to her face. 'Tom's good fortune! Oh dear no; why should it be? I only wished to explain how it was that we knew so early. You know,' in a low voice, 'I couldn't help being a little excited. We are both mothers--both left alone early. I have so often sympathised with you in your anxieties----' 'I know--I know,' answered Mrs. Gregory affectionately. 'And I can't tell you how pleasant your sympathy is to me. We have so many kind friends here. Their interest and affection have touched me deeply.' She cast an appealing glance at Tom, who looked painfully wooden and irresponsive. 'I am sure my son feels with me,' she added. This seemed to arouse Tom, for he murmured something indefinite about being much obliged. 'Never mind,' whispered Lady Winter to Mrs. Gregory. 'Young men are all alike. They don't care for congratulations. Reginald was just the same. When my poor old aunt died the other day, you know, and left him that little bit of money, and people told me how glad they were, he behaved quite naughtily. "Really," he said at last, "I wish she hadn't; I'm sick of hearing of it."' 'Then I think he was very ungrateful,' said Mrs. Gregory severely. 'A pretty sort of place the world would be if we had no one to rejoice and grieve with us!' 'That is the woman's view, my dear friend. But men, you know----' 'Men!' echoed Mrs. Gregory scornfully. 'Boys!' 'Oh come! my friend Tom is not quite a boy,' said Lady Winter, with a smile of exquisite graciousness towards that irresponsive person. 'Well done, mother. I shall treasure that up,' laughed Sir Reginald. 'I am called a boy often enough, Mrs. Gregory, and I am ages older than Tom. I say, Gregory, what do you say to a stroll and a weed? A fellow is taking my new outrigger up and down. I should like you to see it.'