"Yes, Lloyd, have it brought in, and ask Master Dick if he'll have some of the old claret," said the woman. "My dear Mrs Lloyd," said Trevor, smiling, "this is very kind of you-- of you both--but I'm not ready for lunch yet. You can both go now. I'll ring when I'm ready." He led the way into his handsomely furnished study, the beau ideal of a comfortable room for a man with a mingling of literary and sporting tastes. "Here, let's sit down and have a cigar," he said, pushing a great leather-covered chair to his friend; "it will smooth us down after our encounter." "No; I'll fill my pipe," said Pratt, suiting the action to the word, and lighting up, to send big clouds of smoke through the large room. "You mustn't take any notice of the old butler and housekeeper, Frank," said Trevor, after a pause. "Don't mean to." "You see, they've had their own way here since I was a child." "And now they don't like to give it up?" "I suppose not. But they mean well. They were always, I can remember, most affectionate to me." "Yes; they seem to like Master Dick." "Pish! yes, of course--their way. Sounds stupid, though, Franky; but you can't wonder at it." "I don't," said Pratt. "But I should put my foot down, I think." "That I most decidedly shall, and before Van and the little Baronet come down." "Oh, by Jove!" said Pratt, starting, "why those two fellows are coming to-morrow." "Yes; they'll be here about five." "And what in the world are you going to do with them?" "Oh, there's plenty to do--billiards, and cards, and smoking indoors; fishing and yachting out of doors." "Yes," said Pratt, with a sigh; "but they'll both be murmuring after the flesh-pots of Pall Mall. You'll have your hands pretty full." "Never fear," said Trevor; "I shall be able to entertain them. How strange it all seems, though--such a little while since we were boys at Eton, and now Van a perfect exquisite." "Landells an imperfect ditto." "You a barrister." "Yes," said Pratt, "very barrister, indeed; and you altered into a tawny tar, regularly disguised by Nature." Here there was a tap at the door. "Come in," said Trevor, who was sitting in a low, big-backed chair. And then, as the door opened, "Who is it?" "Hebe!" said Pratt, softly. "Eh?" said Trevor. "If you please, sir, Mrs Lloyd said I was to bring this in," said a pleasant little voice; and Trevor swung himself round in his chair, to gaze upon a pretty little very round-faced girl of about seventeen or eighteen, with smooth brown hair, clear white complexion, rather large eyes, ruddy lips, and a face like fire with confusion. There were the faint traces, too, of tears lately wiped from her eyes, and her pleasant little voice had a plaintive ring in it as, in answer to Trevor's "Eh?" and wondering stare, she repeated her words-- "If you please, sir, Mrs Lloyd said I was to bring this in."