after I left the army, from living on the produce of my pen—­which means, if there is to be any produce, the prostrating of yourself to the level of the round middle of the public:  saved me from that!  Yes, Mr. Carling, I have trotted our thoroughfares a poor Polly of the pen; and it is owing to Victor Radnor that I can order my thoughts as an individual man again before I blacken paper.  Owing to him, I have a tenderness for mercenaries; having been one of them and knowing how little we can help it.  He is an Olympian—­who thinks of them below.  The lady also is an admirable woman at all points.  The pair are a mated couple, such as you won’t find in ten households over Christendom.  Are you aware of the story?’

Carling replied:  ’A story under shadow of the Law, has generally two very distinct versions.’

’Hear mine.—­And, by Jove! a runaway cab.  No, all right.  But a crazy cab it is, and fit to do mischief in narrow Drury.  Except that it’s sheer riff-raff here to knock over.’

‘Hulloa?—­come!’ quoth the wary lawyer.

’There’s the heart I wanted to rouse to hear me!  One may be sure that the man for old Burgundy has it big and sound, in spite of his legal practices; a dear good spherical fellow!  Some day, we’ll hope, you will be sitting with us over a magnum of Victor Radnor’s Romance Conti aged thirty-one:  a wine, you’ll say at the second glass, High Priest for the celebration of the uncommon nuptials between the body and the soul of man.’

’You hit me rightly,’said Carting, tickled and touched; sensually excited by the bouquet of Victor Radnor’s hospitality and companionship, which added flavour to Fenellan’s compliments.  These came home to him through his desire to be the ‘good spherical fellow’; for he, like modern diplomatists in the track of their eminent Berlinese New Type of the time, put on frankness as an armour over wariness, holding craft in reserve:  his aim was at the refreshment of honest fellowship:  by no means to discover that the coupling of his native bias with his professional duty was unprofitable nowadays.  Wariness, however, was not somnolent, even when he said:  ’You know, I am never the lawyer out of my office.  Man of the world to men of the world; and I have not lost by it.  I am Mrs. Barman Radnor’s legal adviser:  you are Mr. Victor Radnor’s friend.  They are, as we see them, not on the best of terms.  I would rather—­at its lowest, as a matter of business—­be known for having helped them to some kind of footing than send in a round bill to my client—­or another.  I gain more in the end.  Frankly, I mean to prove, that it’s a lawyer’s interest to be human.’

‘Because, now, see!’ said Fenellan, ’here’s the case.  Miss Natalia Dreighton, of a good Yorkshire family—­a large one, reads an advertisement for the post of companion to a lady, and answers it, and engages herself, previous to the appearance of the young husband.  Miss Dreighton is one of the finest young women alive.  She has a glorious contralto voice.  Victor and she are encouraged by Mrs. Barman to sing duets together.  Well?