“Have you heard anything about that matter I spoke of?” Daniel began by asking, confidentially.

Piers answered in the affirmative, and gave details, much to the elder’s satisfaction.  Thereupon, Daniel began talking in a strain of yet closer confidence, sitting knee to knee with Piers and tapping him occasionally in a fraternal way.  It might interest Piers to know that he was writing a book—­a book which would revolutionise opinion with regard to certain matters, and certain periods of art.  The work was all but finished.  Unfortunately, no publisher could be found to bear the entire expense of this publication, which of course appealed to a very small circle of readers.  The illustrations made it costly, and—­in short, Daniel found himself pressingly in need of a certain sum to complete this undertaking, which could not but establish his fame as a connoisseur, and in all likelihood would secure his appointment as Director of a certain Gallery which he must not name.  The money could be had for the asking from twenty persons—­a mere bagatelle of a hundred and fifty pounds or so; but how much pleasanter it would be if this little loan could be arranged between brothers Daniel would engage to return the sum on publication of the book, probably some six months hence.  Of course he merely threw out the suggestion—­

“I shall be only too glad to help,” exclaimed Piers at once.  “You shall have the money as soon as I get it.”

“That’s really noble of you, my dear boy—­By the bye, let all this be very strictly entre nous.  To tell you the truth.  I want to give the dear old philosopher of Wensleydale a pleasant surprise.  I’m afraid he misjudges me; we have not been on the terms of perfect confidence which I should desire.  But this book will delight him, I know.  Let it come as a surprise.”

Piers undertook to say nothing; and Daniel after washing his hands and face, and smoothing his thin hair, was radiant with gratification.

“Charming girl, Miss Derwent—­eh, Piers?  I seem to know the name —­Dr. Derwent?  Why, to be sure!  Capital acquaintance for you.  Lucky rascal, to have got into this house.  Miss Hannaford, too, has points.  Nothing so good at your age, my dear boy, as the habit of associating with intelligent girls and women. Emollit mores, and something more than that.  An excellent influence every way.  I’m no preacher, Piers, but I hold by morality; it’s the salt of life—­ the salt of life!”

At dinner, Daniel surpassed himself.  He told admirable stories, he started just the right topics, and dealt with them in the right way; he seemed to know intuitively the habits of thought of each person he addressed.  The hostess was radiant; Olga looked almost happy; Irene, after a seeming struggle with herself, which an unkind observer might have attributed to displeasure at being rivalled in talk, yielded to the cheery influence, and held her own against the visitor in wit and merriment.  Not till half-past ten did Daniel resolve to tear himself away.  His thanks to Mrs. Hannaford for an “enjoyable evening” were spoken with impressive sincerity, and the lady’s expression of hope that they might meet again made his face shine.