But before we reached them, Mr. Perry was hailed in a cheery but somewhat vinous voice by a man who was reclining in the depths of an easy chair by an open window, with a table at his side on which was a bottle of Maraschino half empty, and a good-sized glass of the same half full. His appearance was not markedly different from that of dozens of elderly men whom you may see after lunch at any London club, taking their ease, and perhaps their little nap, and never far removed in point of time or space from refreshment of a spirituous nature. He was sleek and well-groomed, and the tint of his face was only a trifle more plum-coloured than might betoken abstemious living. "Well, old Perry," said this cheerful gentleman in his mellow voice, but without shifting his semi-recumbent position, "what are you going to do to raise us this afternoon? Come and help me buzz this bottle, and show your sympathy with the rich." Mr. Perry seemed to look at the speaker, the bottle, and me, all at the same time, but with a different expression for each. "Allow me," he said, "to introduce my young friend, John Howard, who comes from the Highlands--Lord Charles Delagrange. He is anxious to see something of life amongst the rich, and I am showing him round. Naturally, he has never been in a place like this before, and----" "And we must behave ourselves, eh?" interrupted Lord Charles. "Come now, old Perry, don't pretend to be above your company. You don't like poverty any more than I do. Sit down and make yourself comfortable, and touch that bell for another glass--two more glasses, if Mr. Howard will join us." Mr. Perry touched the bell, as requested, and said with an agreeable smile: "You will have your little joke, Lord Charles. You know very well that all self-indulgence is extremely distasteful to me; but in this place I do not wish to put myself on a pedestal." "You put yourself in that chair, old Perry," said Lord Charles, indicating one only a little less deep and easy than his own, "and don't be a humbug. Well, Mr. Howard, this must be an agreeable change to you from the Highlands. You live on porridge and Plato there, I believe. You did well to put yourself into the hands of old Perry. He'll do you top notch--nobody knows how to better than he--and send you home to spread the gospel of high living and plain thinking among the benighted toilers with whom you have been brought up." "I hope," said Mr. Perry, "that Mr. Howard will go back with no such lesson. If you are going to try to persuade him that my efforts to uplift the wealthy classes are a cloak for vicious desires of my own, Lord Charles, I shall not shrink from holding you up to him as an example of what to avoid." Lord Charles hoisted himself up in his seat to pour out three glasses of the liqueur. "Fire away, old Perry," he said. "Tell him my awful story. But get outside this first; it will do you a world of good." Mr. Perry got outside it, and began: