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The rain-beaten windows of Rushbrook’s town house, however, were cheerfully lit that December evening. Mr. Rushbrook seldom dined alone; in fact, it was popularly alleged that very often the unfinished business of the day was concluded over his bountiful and perfect board. He was dressing as James entered the room.

“Mr. Leyton is in your study, sir; he will stay to dinner.”

“All right.”

“I think, sir,” added James, with respectful suggestiveness, “he wants to talk. At least, sir, he asked me if you would likely come downstairs before your company arrived.”

“Ah! Well, tell the others I’m dining on BUSINESS, and set dinner for two in the blue room.”

“Yes, sir.”

Meanwhile, Mr. Leyton–a man of Rushbrook’s age, but not so fresh and vigorous-looking–had thrown himself in a chair beside the study fire, after a glance around the handsome and familiar room. For the house had belonged to a brother millionaire; it had changed hands with certain shares of “Water Front,”–as some of Rushbrook’s dealings had the true barbaric absence of money detail,–and was elegantly and tastefully furnished. The cuckoo had, however, already laid a few characteristic eggs in this adopted nest, and a white marble statue of a nude and ill-fed Virtue, sent over by Rushbrook’s Paris agent, and unpacked that morning, stood in one corner, and materially brought down the temperature. A Japanese praying-throne of pure ivory, and, above it, a few yards of improper, colored exposure by an old master, equalized each other.

“And what is all this affair about the dinner?” suddenly asked a tartly-pitched female voice with a foreign accent.

Mr. Leyton turned quickly, and was just conscious of a faint shriek, the rustle of a skirt, and the swift vanishing of a woman’s figure from the doorway. Mr. Leyton turned red. Rushbrook lived en garcon, with feminine possibilities; Leyton was a married man and a deacon. The incident which, to a man of the world, would have brought only a smile, fired the inexperienced Leyton with those exaggerated ideas and intense credulity regarding vice common to some very good men. He walked on tip-toe to the door, and peered into the passage. At that moment Rushbrook entered from the opposite door of the room.

“Well,” said Rushbrook, with his usual practical directness, “what do you think of her?”

Leyton, still flushed, and with eyebrows slightly knit, said, awkwardly, that he had scarcely seen her.

“She cost me already ten thousand dollars, and I suppose I’ll have to eventually fix up a separate room for her somewhere,” continued Rushhrook.

“I should certainly advise it,” said Leyton, quickly, “for really, Rushbrook, you know that something is due to the respectable people who come here, and any of them are likely to see”–

“Ah!” interrupted Rushbrook, seriously, “you think she hasn’t got on clothes enough. Why, look here, old man–she’s one of the Virtues, and that’s the rig in which they always travel. She’s a ‘Temperance’ or a ‘Charity’ or a ‘Resignation,’ or something of that kind. You’ll find her name there in French somewhere at the foot of the marble.”

Leyton saw his mistake, but felt–as others sometimes felt–a doubt whether this smileless man was not inwardly laughing at him. He replied, with a keen, rapid glance at his host:–

“I was referring to some woman who stood in that doorway just now, and addressed me rather familiarly, thinking it was you.”

“Oh, the Signora,” said Rushbrook, with undisturbed directness; “well, you saw her at Los Osos last summer. Likely she DID think you were me.”

The cool ignoring of any ulterior thought in Leyton’s objection forced the guest to be equally practical in his reply.

“Yes, but the fact is that Miss Nevil had talked of coming here with me this evening to see you on her own affairs, and it wouldn’t have been exactly the thing for her to meet that woman.”

“She wouldn’t,” said Rushbrook, promptly; “nor would YOU, if you had gone into the parlor as Miss Nevil would have done. But look here! If that’s the reason why you didn’t bring her, send for her at once; my coachman can take a card from you; the brougham’s all ready to fetch her, and there you are. She’ll see only you and me.” He was already moving towards the bell, when Leyton stopped him.