“I know.  But, still—­well, I thought it just possible that you might have read the work, or, at least, heard something regarding the contents of the volume.  Men who have a hobby are rather given to riding it and boring other people with discussions and dissertations upon it; and I seem to think that I have heard it said that Sir Gilbert Morford’s greatest desire in the time of his youth was to become a medical man.  In fact, that he put in two or three years as a student at St. Bartholomew’s, and would have qualified, but that the sudden death of his father compelled him to abandon the hope and to assume the responsibilities of the head of the house of Morford & Morford, tea importers, of Mincing Lane.”

“Yes; that’s quite correct.  He bitterly resented the compulsion—­the ’pitchforking of a man out of a profession into the abomination of trade,’ as he always expresses it—­but of course, he was obliged to yield, and the ‘dream of his life’ dropped off into nothing but a dream.  But the old love and the old recollection still linger, and, although he no longer personally follows either trade or profession, he keeps up his laboratory work, subscribes to every medical journal in Christendom, and if you want to tickle his vanity or to get on the right side of him all you have to do is to address him as ‘doctor.’  With all due respect to him, he’s a bit of a prig, Mr. Cleek, and hates people of no position—­’people of the lower order,’ as he always terms them—­as the gentleman down under is said to hate holy water.”

“So that he, naturally, would move heaven and earth to prevent his grandson and heir from marrying a young woman of that class?  I see!” supplemented Cleek.  “The dear gentleman would like the name of Morford to go down to posterity linked to duchesses or earls’ daughters, and surrounded by a blaze of glory.  Ah, it’s a queer world, Captain.  There is no bitterer hater of the ‘common herd’ than the snob who has climbed up from it!  The snob and the sneak are closely allied, Captain, and men of that stamp have been known to do some pretty ugly things to uphold their pinchbeck dignity, and to keep the tinsel of the present over the cheap gingerbread of the past.”

“Good God, man!  You don’t surely mean to suggest—­”

“Gently, gently, Captain.  Your indignation does you credit; but it is never well to have a shot at a rabbit before he’s fairly out of the hole, and you are sure that it isn’t the ferret you sent in after him.  Anything in the way of a conveyance handy, Mr. Narkom?”

“Yes—­the limousine.  I came down in it yesterday.  It’s over at the Rose and Crown.”

“Good!  Then perhaps Captain Morford will meet us there in a half hour’s time.  Meanwhile, I’ve got a few things to throw into my kit-bag, and as that’s over at the Three Desires, perhaps you won’t mind coming along and giving me a hand.  Then we’ll run over to that house at Dalehampton and have a look at the body of that poor little shaver as expeditiously as possible.  Will you come?”