Roman goldwork, locket-pendant, containing sunny curl, and below a fine pearl; really pretty; telling her our grounds for the liberty.  She replied, accepting the responsible office; touching letter—­we found it so; framed in Fredi’s room, under her godmother’s photograph.  Fredi has another heroine now, though she worships her old one still; she never abandons her old ones.  You’ve heard the story over and over!’

Mr. Fenellan nodded; he had a tenderness for the garrulity of Old Veuve, and for the damsel.  Chatter on that subject ran pleasantly with their entertainment.

Mr. Radnor meanwhile scribbled, and despatched a strip of his Note-book, bearing a scrawl of orders, to his office.  He was now fully himself, benevolent, combative, gay, alert for amusement or the probeing of schemes to the quick, weighing the good and the bad in them with his fine touch on proportion.

’City dead flat?  A monotonous key; but it’s about the same as fetching a breath after a run; only, true, it lasts too long—­not healthy!  Skepsey will bring me my letters.  I was down in the country early this morning, looking over the house, with Taplow, my architect; and he speaks fairly well of the contractors.  Yes, down at Lakelands; and saw my first lemon butterfly in a dell of sunshine, out of the wind, and had half a mind to catch it for Fredi,—­and should have caught it myself, if I had!  The truth is, we three are country born and bred; we pine in London.  Good for a season; you know my old feeling.  They are to learn the secret of Lakelands to-morrow.  It ’s great fun; they think I don’t see they’ve had their suspicion for some time.  You said—­somebody said—­“the eye of a needle for what they let slip of their secrets, and the point of it for penetrating yours":—­women.  But no; my dear souls didn’t prick and bother.  And they dealt with a man in armour.  I carry them down to Lakelands to-morrow, if the City’s flat.’

‘Keeping a secret’s the lid on a boiling pot with you,’ Mr. Fenellan said; and he mused on the profoundness of the flavour at his lips.

‘I do it.’

‘You do:  up to bursting at the breast.’

‘I keep it from Colney!’

‘As Vesuvius keeps it from Palmieri when shaking him.’

‘Has old Colney an idea of it?’

‘He has been foretelling an eruption of an edifice.’

The laugh between them subsided to pensiveness.

Mr. Fenellan’s delay in the delivery of his news was eloquent to reveal the one hateful topic; and this being seen, it waxed to such increase of size with the passing seconds, that prudence called for it.

‘Come!’ said Mr. Radnor.

The appeal was understood.

’Nothing very particular.  I came into the City to look at a warehouse they want to mount double guard on.  Your idea of the fireman’s night-patrol and wires has done wonders for the office.’

‘I guarantee the City if all my directions are followed.’