“Well, get me another brandy anyway.”

Then entered Raymond Ironsyde, and Mr. Gurd for once felt genuinely sorry to see his customer.

The young man was handsome with large, luminous, grey eyes, curly, brown hair and a beautiful mouth, clean cut, full, firm and finely modelled in the lips.  His nose was straight, high in the nostril and sensitive.  He resembled his brother, Daniel, but stood three inches taller, and his brow was fuller and loftier.  His expression in repose appeared frank and receptive; but to-day his face wore a look half anxious, half ferocious.  He was clad in tweed knickerbockers and a Norfolk jacket, of different pattern but similar material.  His tie was light blue and fastened with a gold pin modelled in the shape of a hunting-horn.  He bore no mark of mourning whatever.

“Whiskey and soda, Gurd.  Morning, Neddy.”

He spoke defiantly, as though knowing his entrance was a challenge.  Then he flung himself down on a cushioned seat in the bow window of the bar-room and took a pipe and tobacco pouch from his pocket.

Mr. Gurd brought the drink round to Raymond.  He spoke upon some general subject and pretended to no astonishment that the young man should be here on this day.  But the customer cut him short.  There was only one subject for discussion in his mind.

“I suppose you thought I should go to my father’s funeral?  No doubt, you’ll say, with everybody else, that it’s a disgrace I haven’t.”

“I shall mind my own business and say nothing, Mister Raymond.  It’s your affair, not ours.”

“I’d have done the same, Ray, if I’d been treated the same,” said Neddy Motyer.

“It’s a protest,” explained Raymond Ironsyde.  “To have gone, after being publicly outraged like this in my father’s will, was impossible to anybody but a cur.  He ignored me as his son, and so I ignore him as my father; and who wouldn’t?”

“I suppose Daniel will come up to the scratch all right?” hazarded Motyer.

“He’ll make some stuffy suggestion, no doubt.  He can’t see me in the gutter very well.”

“You must get to work, Mr. Raymond; and I can tell you, as one who knows, that work’s only dreaded by them who have never done any.  You’ll soon find that there’s nothing better for the nerves and temper than steady work.”

Neddy chaffed Mr. Gurd’s sentiments and Raymond said nothing.  He was looking in front of him, his mind occupied with personal problems.

Neddy Motyer made another encouraging suggestion.

“There’s your aunt, Miss Ironsyde,” he said.  “She’s got plenty of cash, I’ve heard people say, and she gives tons away in charity.  How do you stand with her?”

“Mind your own business, Ned.”

“Sorry,” answered the other promptly.  “Only wanted to buck you up.”

“I’m not in need of any bucking up, thanks.  If I’ve got to work, I’m quite equal to it.  I’ve got more brains than Daniel, anyway.  I’m quite conscious of that.”