"Who is it?" inquired Montague.

"Nobody you have heard of," said Oliver. "But I want you to meet
him. You will think he's rather queer, but I will explain to you
afterwards. Tell Alice to take my word for him."

Montague delivered the message, and at seven o'clock they went
downstairs. In the reception room they met Oliver and his friend,
and it was all that Montague could do to repress a look of
consternation.

The name of the personage was Mr. Gamble. He was a little man, a
trifle over five feet high, and so fat that one wondered how he
could get about alone; his chin and neck were a series of rolls of
fat. His face was round like a full moon, and out of it looked two
little eyes like those of a pig. It was only after studying them for
a while that one discovered that they twinkled shrewdly.

Mr. Gamble was altogether the vulgarest-looking personage that Alice
Montague had ever met. He put out a fat little hand to her, and she
touched it gingerly, and then gazed at Oliver and his brother in
helpless dismay.

"Good evening. Good evening," he began volubly. "I am charmed to
meet you. Mr. Montague, I have heard so much about you from your
brother that I feel as if we were old friends."

There was a moment's pause. "Shall we go into the dining-room?"
asked Montague.