Alone again, old Heythorp thought:  ’By George!  What a wavering, quavering, thread paper of a fellow!  What misery life must be to a chap like that!  He walks in fear—­he wallows in it.  Poor devil!’ And a curious feeling swelled his heart, of elation, of lightness such as he had not known for years.  Those two young things were safe now from penury-safe!  After dealing with those infernal creditors of his he would go round and have a look at the children.  With a hundred and twenty a year the boy could go into the Army—­best place for a young scamp like that.  The girl would go off like hot cakes, of course, but she needn’t take the first calf that came along.  As for their mother, she must look after herself; nothing under two thousand a year would keep her out of debt.  But trust her for wheedling and bluffing her way out of any scrape!  Watching his cigar-smoke curl and disperse he was conscious of the strain he had been under these last six weeks, aware suddenly of how greatly he had baulked at thought of to-day’s general meeting.  Yes!  It might have turned out nasty.  He knew well enough the forces on the Board, and off, who would be only too glad to shelve him.  If he were shelved here his other two Companies would be sure to follow suit, and bang would go every penny of his income—­he would be a pauper dependant on that holy woman.  Well!  Safe now for another year if he could stave off these sharks once more.  It might be a harder job this time, but he was in luck—­in luck, and it must hold.  And taking a luxurious pull at his cigar, he rang the handbell.

“Bring ’em in here, Mr. Farney.  And let me have a cup of China tea as strong as you can make it.”

“Yes, sir.  Will you see the proof of the press report, or will you leave it to me?”

“To you.”

“Yes, sir.  It was a good meeting, wasn’t it?”

Old Heythorp nodded.

“Wonderful how your voice came back just at the right moment.  I was afraid things were going to be difficult.  The insult did it, I think.  It was a monstrous thing to say.  I could have punched his head.”

Again old Heythorp nodded; and, looking into the secretary’s fine blue eyes, he repeated:  “Bring ’em in.”

The lonely minute before the entrance of his creditors passed in the thought:  ’So that’s how it struck him!  Short shrift I should get if it came out.’

The gentlemen, who numbered ten this time, bowed to their debtor, evidently wondering why the deuce they troubled to be polite to an old man who kept them out of their money.  Then, the secretary reappearing with a cup of China tea, they watched while their debtor drank it.  The feat was tremulous.  Would he get through without spilling it all down his front, or choking?  To those unaccustomed to his private life it was slightly miraculous.  He put the cup down empty, tremblingly removed some yellow drops from the little white tuft below his lip, refit his cigar, and said: