"So should I, Miss Clifford, in your company, and your father's, but not
in that of Jacob. If ever you should go there with him, I say:--'Beware
of Jacob.'"

"Oh! I am not afraid of Jacob," she answered with a laugh, "although I
believe that my father still has something to do with him--at least in
one of his letters he mentioned his partner, who was a German."

"A German! I think that he must have meant a German Jew."

After this there was silence between them for a time, then he said
suddenly, "You have told me your story, would you like to hear mine?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Well, it won't take you long to listen to it, for, Miss Clifford,
like Canning's needy knife-grinder, I have really none to tell. You
see before you one of the most useless persons in the world, an
undistinguished member of what is called in England the 'leisured
class,' who can do absolutely nothing that is worth doing, except shoot
straight."

"Indeed," said Benita.

"You do not seem impressed with that accomplishment," he went on, "yet
it is an honest fact that for the last fifteen years--I was thirty-two
this month--practically my whole time has been given up to it, with a
little fishing thrown in in the spring. As I want to make the most of
myself, I will add that I am supposed to be among the six best shots in
England, and that my ambition--yes, great Heavens! my ambition--was to