beard had long gone white and the fringes of hair attaching to his
ostrich egg of a head confirmed his venerable appearance.

When the train had started the young man proceeded in no very good
temper and with great solemnity to fill a pipe. He turned to his senior,
who was watching him in a very paternal and happy manner, and said
formally:

"I hope you do not mind my smoking, sir?"

"Not at all," said the old boy; "it is a habit I have long grown
accustomed to in others."

The young man bowed in a somewhat absurd fashion and felt for his
matches. He discovered to his no small mortification that he had none.
He was so used to his pipe after a meal that he really could not forgo
it. He came off his perch by at least three steps and asked the old man
very gently whether he had any matches.

The older man produced a box and at the same time brought out with it a
little notebook and a playing card which happened to be in his pocket.
The young man took the matches and lit his pipe, surveying the old man
the while with a more complacent eye.

"It is very kind of you, sir," he said a little less stiffly. He handed
back the matches, wrapped his rug round his legs, sat down in his place,
and knowing that one should prolong the conversation for a moment or two
after a favour, said: "I see that you play cards."

"I do," said the old man simply; "would you like a game?"