He beautifully eliminated the years, he eliminated all but the facts that the young man’s father and himself had been acquaintances in youth, that he remembered Mount Dunstan himself as a child, that he had heard with interest of his visit to America.  Whatsoever the young man felt, he made no sign which presented obstacles.  He accepted the eliminations with outward composure.  He was a powerful-looking fellow, with a fine way of carrying his shoulders, and an eye which might be able to light savagely, but just now, at least, he showed nothing of the sulkiness he was accused of.

Lord Dunholm progressed admirably with him.  He soon found that he need not be upon any strain with regard to the eliminations.  The man himself could eliminate, which was an assistance.

They talked together when they turned to follow the others to the retreat of G. Selden.

“Have you bought a Delkoff?” Lord Dunholm inquired.

“If I could have afforded it, I should have bought one.”

“I think that we have come here with the intention of buying three.  We did not know we required them until Miss Vanderpoel recited half a page of the catalogue to us.”

“Three will mean a ‘rake off’ of fifteen dollars to G. Selden,” said Mount Dunstan.  It was, he saw, necessary that he should explain the meaning of a “rake off,” and he did so to his companion’s entertainment.

The afternoon was a satisfactory one.  They were all kind to G. Selden, and he on his part was an aid to them.  In his innocence he steered three of them, at least, through narrow places into an open sea of easy intercourse.  This was a good beginning.  The junior assistant was recovering rapidly, and looked remarkably well.  The doctor had told him that he might try to use his leg.  The inside cabin of the cheap Liner and “little old New York” were looming up before him.  But what luck he had had, and what a holiday!  It had been enough to set a fellow up for ten years’ work.  It would set up the boys merely to be told about it.  He didn’t know what he had ever done to deserve such luck as had happened to him.  For the rest of his life he would he waving the Union Jack alongside of the Stars and Stripes.

Mr. Penzance it was who suggested that he should try the strength of the leg now.

“Yes,” Mount Dunstan said.  “Let me help you.”

As he rose to go to him, Westholt good-naturedly got up also.  They took their places at either side of his invalid chair and assisted him to rise and stand on his feet.

“It’s all right, gentlemen.  It’s all right,” he called out with a delighted flush, when he found himself upright.  “I believe I could stand alone.  Thank you.  Thank you.”

He was able, leaning on Mount Dunstan’s arm, to take a few steps.  Evidently, in a short time, he would find himself no longer disabled.