thirty years and more by one of his name. For a moment the insinuating
quality of the appeal submerged the fixed idea in a mind to which the
name of Eglington was anathema.

Eglington saw his advantage. He had felt his way carefully, and he
pursued it quickly. "For the rest, your daughter asked what I was ready
to offer--such help as, in my new official position, I can give to
Claridge Pasha in Egypt. As a neighbour, as Minister in the Government,
I will do what I can to aid him."

Silent and embarrassed, the old man tried to find his way. Presently he
said tentatively: "David Claridge has a title to the esteem of all
civilised people." Eglington was quick with his reply. "If he succeeds,
his title will become a concrete fact. There is no honour the Crown
would not confer for such remarkable service."

The other's face darkened. "I did not speak, I did not think, of handles
to his name. I find no good in them, but only means for deceiving and
deluding the world. Such honours as might make him baronet, or duke,
would add not a cubit to his stature. If he had such a thing by right"
--his voice hardened, his eyes grew angry once again--"I would wish it
sunk into the sea."

"You are hard on us, sir, who did not give ourselves our titles, but took
them with our birth as a matter of course. There was nothing inspiring
in them. We became at once distinguished and respectable by patent."

He laughed good-humouredly. Then suddenly he changed, and his eyes took
on a far-off look which Faith had seen so often in the eyes of David,
but in David's more intense and meaning, and so different. With what