marriage. It's Miss Birching, the sister of my man. It hasn't come
to an engagement yet, and if it ever does I shall give Miss Birching
the credit for it. It would have amused you to hear him talking
about her, with a pipe in his mouth and half asleep. I understand
now why he took young Birching with him to Switzerland. He'll never
carry it through; unless, as I said, Miss Birching takes the
decisive step."

"Is she the kind of girl to do that?" asked Eve, waking to
curiosity.

"I know nothing about her, except from Narramore's sleepy talk.
Rather an arrogant beauty, according to him. He told me a story of
how, when he was calling upon her, she begged him to ring the bell
for something or other, and he was so slow in getting up that she
went and rang it herself. 'Her own fault,' he said; 'she asked me to
sit on a chair with a seat some six inches above the ground, and how
can a man hurry up from a thing of that sort?'"

"He must be a strange man. Of course he doesn't care anything about
Miss Birching."

"But I think he does, in his way."

"How did he ever get on at all in business?"

"Oh, he's one of the lucky men." Hilliard replied, with a touch of
good-natured bitterness. "He never exerted himself; good things fell
into his mouth. People got to like him--that's one explanation, no
doubt."