society, eh?"

"Who's the grasping owner?" some one asked.

"Old Mrs Codleyn," said Fearns.

"Here, Mr Machin, they're talking about you," said the Secretary and
Steward, genially. He knew that Denry collected Mrs Codleyn's rents.

"Mrs Codleyn isn't the owner," Denry called out across the room, almost
before he was aware what he was doing. There was a smile on his face and
a glass in his hand.

"Oh!" said Fearns. "I thought she was. Who is?"

Everybody looked inquisitively at the renowned Machin, the new member.

"I am," said Denry.

He had concealed the change of ownership from the Widow Hullins. In his
quality of owner he could not have lent her money in order that she
might pay it instantly back to himself.

"I beg your pardon," said Fearns, with polite sincerity. "I'd no
idea...!" He saw that unwittingly he had come near to committing a gross
outrage on club etiquette.

"Not at all!" said Denry. "But supposing the cottage was _yours_,
what would _you_ do, Mr Fearns? Before I bought the property I used
to lend her money myself to pay her rent."