“Dale,” said he, “won’t you take some more wine?”

“Nothing more,” said the colonel, still looking at the fire, and shaking his head very slowly.

“Come, Johnny, fill your glass.”  He had already got into the way of calling his young friend Johnny, having found that Mrs Eames generally spoke of her son by that name.

“I have been filling my glass all the time,” said Eames, taking the decanter again in his hand as he spoke.

“I’m glad you’ve found something to amuse you, for it has seemed to me that you and Dale haven’t had much to say to each other.  I’ve been listening all the time.”

“You’ve been asleep,” said the colonel.

“Then there’s been some excuse for my holding my tongue,” said the earl.  “By-the-by, Dale, what do you think of that fellow Crosbie?”

Eames’s ears were instantly on the alert, and the spirit of dullness vanished from him.

“Think of him?” said the colonel.

“He ought to have every bone in his skin broken,” said the earl.

“So he ought,” said Eames, getting up from his chair in his eagerness, and speaking in a tone somewhat louder than was perhaps becoming in the presence of his seniors.  “So he ought, my lord.  He is the most abominable rascal that ever I met in my life.  I wish I was Lily Dale’s brother.”  Then he sat down again, remembering that he was speaking in the presence of Lily’s uncle, and of the father of Bernard Dale, who might be supposed to occupy the place of Lily’s brother.

The colonel turned his head round, and looked at the young man with surprise.  “I beg your pardon, sir,” said Eames, “but I have known Mrs Dale and your nieces all my life.”

“Oh, have you?” said the colonel.  “Nevertheless it is, perhaps, as well not to make too free with a young lady’s name.  Not that I blame you in the least, Mr Eames.”

“I should think not,” said the earl.  “I honour him for his feeling.  Johnny, my boy, if ever I am unfortunate enough to meet that man, I shall tell him my mind, and I believe you will do the same.”  On hearing this John Eames winked at the earl, and made a motion with his head towards the colonel, whose back was turned to him.  And then the earl winked back at Eames.

“De Guest,” said the colonel, “I think I’ll go upstairs; I always have a little arrowroot in my own room.”

“I’ll ring the bell for a candle,” said the host.  Then the colonel went, and as the door was closed behind him, the earl raised his two hands and uttered that single word, “negus!” Whereupon Johnny burst out laughing, and coming round to the fire, sat himself down in the arm-chair which the colonel had left.

“I’ve no doubt it’s all right,” said the earl; “but I shouldn’t like to drink negus myself, nor yet to have arrowroot up in my bedroom.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any harm in it.”

“Oh dear, no; I wonder what Pawkins says about him.  But I suppose they have them of all sorts in an hotel.”