"I will apologize," he said calmly, "for our not being dressed
for a call," and walking across the vast misty square, he walked
up the dark stone steps and rang at the bell.

A severe servant in black and white opened the door to us: on
receiving my friend's name his manner passed in a flash from
astonishment to respect. We were ushered into the house very
quickly, but not so quickly but that our host, a white-haired
man with a fiery face, came out quickly to meet us.

"My dear fellow," he cried, shaking Basil's hand again and again,
"I have not seen you for years. Have you been--er--" he said,
rather wildly, "have you been in the country?"

"Not for all that time," answered Basil, smiling. "I have long
given up my official position, my dear Philip, and have been
living in a deliberate retirement. I hope I do not come at an
inopportune moment."

"An inopportune moment," cried the ardent gentleman. "You come at
the most opportune moment I could imagine. Do you know who is
here?"

"I do not," answered Grant, with gravity. Even as he spoke a roar
of laughter came from the inner room.

"Basil," said Lord Beaumont solemnly, "I have Wimpole here."

"And who is Wimpole?"