Two men were sitting in the smoking-room of a London club. The room was
almost empty, and as they occupied arm-chairs in one corner of it, they
were able to talk freely without fear of being overheard. One of them was
a man of sixty, the other some five or six and twenty.

"I must do something," the younger man said, "for I have been kicking my
heels about London since my ship was paid off two years ago. At first, of
course, it didn't matter, for I have enough to live upon; but recently I
have been fool enough to fall in love with a girl whose parents would
never dream of allowing her to marry a half-pay lieutenant of the navy
with no chance in the world of getting employed again, for I have no
interest whatever."

"It is an awkward case certainly, Prendergast," the other said; "and upon
my word, though I sympathize with you, I cannot blame Fortescue. He is not
what you might call a genial man, but there is no doubt that he was a
splendid lawyer and a wonderful worker. For ten years he earned more than
any man at the bar. I know that he was twice offered the solicitor-
generalship, but as he was making two or three times the official salary,
he would not take it. I believe he would have gone on working till now had
he not suddenly come in for a very fine estate, owing to the death, in the
course of two or three years, of four men who stood between him and it.
Besides, I fancy he got hints that in the general opinion of the bar he
had had a wonderfully good innings, and it was about time that younger men
had a share in it. What his savings were I do not know, but they must be
very large. His three sons are all at the bar, and are rising men, so
there was no occasion for him to go on piling up money for them. But, as I
say, he has always had the reputation of being a hard man, and it is
practically certain that he would never allow his daughter to marry a man