"I am very sorry, Eustace," he answered humbly. "I will go and see him
if you like, and explain the thing to him to-morrow. The fact of the
matter is, I was thinking of something else."

Sir Eustace interrogated him with a look.

"I was thinking," he went on slowly, "about Mad--about Lady Croston."

"Oh!"

"I went to see her this afternoon, and I think, I hope, that I am going
to marry her."

If Bottles expected that this great news would be received by his
elder brother as such news ought to be received--with congratulatory
rejoicing--he was destined to be disappointed.

"Good heavens!" ejaculated Sir Eustace shortly, letting his eyeglass
drop.

"Why do you say that, Eustace?" Bottles asked uneasily.

"Because--because," answered his brother in the emphatic tone which was
his equivalent for strong language, "you must be mad to think of such a
thing."

"Why must I be mad?"

"Because you, still a young man, with all your life before you,