take advice as wot he is."

"He is coming again for more, I suppose?" said Miss Nugent, carelessly.

Mr. Wilks acquiesced. "And he asked me to go over to his 'ouse to smoke
a pipe with 'im on Tuesday," he added, in the casual manner in which men
allude to their aristocratic connections. "He's a bit lonely, all by
himself."

Miss Nugent said, "Indeed," and then, lapsing into silence, gave little
occasional side-glances at Mr. Wilks, as though in search of any hidden
charms about him which might hitherto have escaped her.

At the same time Mr. James Hardy, walking slowly home by the edge of the
sea, pondered on further ways and means of ensnaring the affection of the
ex-steward.




CHAPTER VII

The anticipations of Mr. Wilks were more than realized on the following
Tuesday. From the time a trim maid showed him into the smoking-room
until late at night, when he left, a feted and honoured guest, with one
of his host's best cigars between his teeth, nothing that could yield him
any comfort was left undone. In the easiest of easy chairs he sat in the
garden beneath the leafy branches of apple trees, and undiluted wisdom
and advice flowed from his lips in a stream as he beamed delightedly upon
his entertainer.