And it was--Sir Nigel as ever he lived, or rather, was painted! Heady with wine though we may have been--the very man himself surely stood there! The likeness was scrupulous, the resemblance of face alone, as he stood surveying us from the open window with his hat carried as in the portrait, was startling, ludicrous. The colour of the clothes, the very feather in the hat, were as though taken from the oil of the portrait; not one thing was amiss in the disguise, not even that well-dined look of Sir Nigel's time! A full half-minute must have passed in startled, amused silence, while we all stared at the apparition, and he handsomely stared back at us--we all except Iris who, I saw from the corner of my eye, had not turned in her chair at the voice, but was looking straightly in front of her, a little crooked smile about her mouth. The reason for the "Nigel Poole" party, which she had suggested to Roger, was now well out! And, still in that half-minute, I twisted my head to take stock of our host standing at his end of the table--and, I don't quite know why, was amazed to see that he was not looking at Antony but at his wife, thoughtfully, ever so thoughtfully, just for a second.... Antony's smile was mainly to Roger, and after the first second he was wonderfully answered. Roger let drop his empty glass so that it shattered on the table, then strode across the room towards his brother, both hands outstretched to meet him. "Welcome to my house, Sir Nigel," said he, and the brothers very handsomely took each the other's hands. [I never thought to see two grown men enjoy tomfoolery so seriously as did these two brothers from this moment on.] "You do me a great honour," continued Roger as he led his brother towards us, "but you also put me to a degree of shame--" "Why, sir, I never yet shamed any man by my presence in his house!" And the blustering cry, one knew, might as well have been Sir Nigel's as Red Antony's. "I meant no such reflection," Roger protested smoothly. "I am merely shamed that you did not trust my hospitality some hours before, so that you could have been of our company over dinner." "I protest, Sir Roger, that you make me too welcome! But I assure you we keep a very good table in the place I come from--" (And it was obvious enough that Antony had dined as extremely well as the heartiest of us.) "And that, had I known of this honour, I would have asked one the less--for you, Sir Nigel, will now make the thirteenth about the table." (I'll bet Iris never thought of that, though!) "Egad, I play in luck to-night, then! For I'd have you know, Sir, that thirteen is a number much favoured in the place I've just left." By now they had reached Roger's end of the table and stood there, the objects of our very amused attention. And a fine pair of men they made, those brothers! "I'll present the company to you--" Roger was saying when Antony took him quickly up.