“And you managed to convey something of those very painful facts which you felt it was your duty to bring to his notice?” asked Mr. Taynton.

Godfrey Mills laughed.

“I say, Taynton, is it really worth while keeping it up like this?” he asked.  “It really saves so much trouble to talk straight, as I propose to do.  I saw him, as I said, and I really managed remarkably well.  I had these admissions wrung from me, I assure you it is no less than that, under promise of the most absolute secrecy.  I told him young Assheton was leading an idle, extravagant, and dissipated life.  I said I had seen him three nights ago in Piccadilly, not quite sober, in company with the class of person to whom one does not refer in polite society.  Will that do?”

“Ah, I can easily imagine how painful you must have found—­” began Taynton.

But his partner interrupted.

“It was rather painful; you have spoken a true word in jest.  I felt a brute, I tell you.  But, as I pointed out to you, something of the sort was necessary.”

Mr. Taynton suddenly dropped his slightly clerical manner.

“You have done excellently, my dear friend,” he said.  “And as you pointed out to me, it was indeed necessary to do something of the sort.  I think by now, your revelations have already begun to take effect.  Yes, I think I will take a little brandy and soda.  Thank you very much.”

He got up with greater briskness than he had hitherto shown.

“And you are none too soon,” he said.  “Morris, poor Morris, such a handsome fellow, confided to me this evening that he was in love with Miss Templeton.  He is very much in earnest.”

“And why do you think my interview has met with some success?” asked Mills.

“Well, it is only a conjecture, but when Morris asked if he might call any time to-morrow, Miss Templeton (who was also dining with Mrs. Assheton) said that she and her mother would be out all day and not get home till late.  It does not strike me as being too fanciful to see in that some little trace perhaps of your handiwork.”

“Yes, that looks like me,” said Mills shortly.

Mr. Taynton took a meditative sip at his brandy and soda.

“My evening also has not been altogether wasted,” he said.  “I played what for me was a bold stroke, for as you know, my dear fellow, I prefer to leave to your nimble and penetrating mind things that want dash and boldness.  But to-night, yes, I was warmed with that wonderful port and was bold.”

“What did you do?” asked Mills.

“Well, I asked, I almost implored dear Morris to give me two or three hours to-morrow and go through all the books, and satisfy himself everything is in order, and his investments well looked after.  I told him also that the original L30,000 of his had, owing to judicious management, become L40,000.  You see, that is unfortunately a thing past praying for.  It is so indubitably clear from the earlier ledgers—­”