interspersed here and there. In the centre of the room stood a pedestal
of black marble, and upon it rested a huge silver vase encrusted with
ornamentation. The old man did not know that this elaborate specimen of
the silversmith's art was referred to as the "Cup." Some one had hung a
placard on it, bearing, in crudely scrawled letters the words:--

"Fare thee well, and if for ever
Still for ever Fare thee well."

While the old man was wondering what all this meant, the curtain
suddenly parted and there entered an elderly gentleman somewhat
jauntily attired in evening dress with a rose at his buttonhole.
Saunders instantly recognised him as the banker, and he felt a
resentment at what he considered his foppish appearance, realising
almost at the same moment the rustiness of his own clothes, an everyday
suit, not too expensive even when new.

"How are you, Mr. Saunders?" cried the banker, cordially extending his
hand. "I am very pleased indeed to meet you. We got your telegram, but
thought it best not to give it to Dick. I took the liberty of opening
it myself. You see we can't be too careful about these little details.
I told the porter to look after you and let me know the moment you
came. Of course you are very anxious about your boy."

"I am," said the old man firmly. "That's why I'm here."

"Certainly, certainly. So are we all, and I presume I'm the most
anxious man of the lot. Now what you want to know is how he is getting
along?"