Those words, which seemed to Mr. Lavender to seal his doom, caused a faint pink flush to invade his cheeks.

“No,” continued Joe, pouring out the wine; you ’aven’t got the brass in times like these.  I dare say you’ve noticed, sir, that the times is favourable for bringing out the spots on the body politic.  ’Ere’s ’ealth!”

“Joe,” said Mr. Lavender, raising the glass to his lips with solemnity, “I wish you a most happy and prosperous life.  Let us drink to all those qualities which make you par excellence one of that great race, the best hearted in the world, which never thinks of to-morrow, never knows when it is beaten, and seldom loses its sense of humour.

“Ah!” returned Joe enigmatically, half-closing one of his greenish eyes, and laying the glass to one side of his reddish nose.  Then, with a quick movement, he swallowed its contents and refilled it before Mr. Lavender had succeeded in absorbing more than a drop.

“I don’t say,” he continued, “but what there’s a class o’ public man that’s got its uses, like the little ’un that keeps us all alive, or the perfect English gentleman what did his job, and told nobody nothin’ abaht it.  You can ’ave confidence in a man like that——­that’s why ’e’s gone an’ retired; ’e’s civilized, you see, the finished article; but all this raw material, this ‘get-on’ or ‘get-out’ lot, that’s come from ’oo knows where, well, I wish they’d stayed there with their tell-you-how-to-do-it and their ’ymns of ’ate.”

“Joe,” said Mr. Lavender, “are you certain that therein does not speak the snob inherent in the national bosom?  Are you not unconsciously paying deference to the word gentleman?”

“Why not, sir?” replied Joe, tossing off his second glass.  “It’d be a fine thing for the country if we was all gentlemen—­straight, an’ a little bit stupid, and ’ad ’alf a thought for others.”  And he refilled his master’s glass.  “I don’t measure a gentleman by ’is money, or ’is title, not even by ’is clothes—­I measure ’im by whether he can stand ‘avin’ power in ’is ‘ands without gettin’ unscrupled or swollen ’eaded, an’ whether ‘e can do what he thinks right without payin’ attention, to clamour.  But, mind you, ’e’s got to ’ave right thoughts too, and a feelin’ ’eart.  ’Ere’s luck, sir.”

Mr. Lavender, who, absorbed in his chauffeur’s sentiments, had now drunk two glasses, rose from his, chair, and clutching his hair said:  “I will not conceal from you, Joe, that I have always assumed every public man came up to that standard, at least.”

“Crikey said Joe.  ’Ave you really, sir?  My Gawd!  Got any use for the rest of this bottle?”

“No, Joe, no.  I shall never have use for a bottle again.”

“In that case I might as well,” said Joe, pouring what remained into a tumbler and drinking it off.  “Is there any other topic you’d like to mention?  If I can ’ave any influence on you, I shall be very glad.”

“Thank you, Joe,” returned Mr. Lavender, “what I have most need of at this moment is solitude and your good wishes.  And will you kindly take Blink away, and when she has had her run, place her in my bedroom, with the window closed.  Good-night, Joe.  Call me late tomorrow morning.