"And with the Japanese?"

"And with the Japanese."

Atherton frowned at the glowing end of his cigar.

"Nina and I ran down to see Craven Towers when we were on our
wedding trip in England last year," he said at length with seeming
irrelevance. "Your agent, Mr. Peters, ran us round."

"Good old Peters," murmured Craven lazily. "The place would have
gone to the bow-wows long ago if it hadn't been for him. He adored
my mother and has the worst possible opinion of me. But he's a
loyal old bird, he probably endowed me with all the virtues for
your benefit."

But Atherton ignored the comment. He polished his eyeglass
vigorously and screwed it firmly into position.

"If I was an Englishman with a place like Craven Towers that had
been in my family for generations," he said soberly, "I should go
home and marry a nice girl and settle down on my estate."

"That's precisely Peters' opinion," replied Craven promptly with a
good-tempered laugh. "I get reams from him to that effect nearly
every mail--with detailed descriptions of all the eligible
debutantes whom he thinks suitable. I often wonder whether he runs
the estate on the same lines and keeps a matrimonial agency for
the tenants."