"Who is the gentleman?" said Dr Rippon, aside, when their greeting was
over. "It does an old man's heart good to see and hear him," and the old
doctor straightened himself. "But he'll get old too; that's the sad
thing, from my point of view, that such beauty of person and swift
intelligence of mind _must_ grow old and withered, and slow and dull.
What did you say his name is, John?"

"His name is Courtney--Julius Courtney," said Lefevre.

"Courtney," mused the old man, stroking his eyebrow; "I once knew a man
of that name, or, rather, who took that name. I wonder if this friend of
yours is of the same family; he is not unlike the man I knew."

"Oh," said Lefevre, immediately interested, "he may be of the same
family, but I don't know anything of his relations. Who was the man, may
I ask, that you knew?"

"Well," said the old gentleman, settling down to a story, which Lefevre
was sure would be full of interest and contemporary allusion, for the
old physician had in his time seen many men and many things--"it is a
romantic story in its way."

He was on the point of beginning it when dinner was announced.

"I should like to hear the story when we return to the drawing-room,"
said Lefevre.

Over dinner, Lefevre was beset with inquiries about his mysterious
case:--Was the young man better? Had he been very ill? Was he handsome?