It pulled him together a bit, and he was going back to the ball-room

when several men entered. They were Griffenberg, Baron Wirsch, the

Beltons and the other financiers; they were all talking together and

laughing, and their faces were flushed with triumph. Close behind them,

but grave and taciturn as usual, came Mr. Falconer.

At sight of Stafford, Mr. Griffenberg turned from the man to whom he

was talking and exclaimed, gleefully: "Here is Mr. Orme! You have herd the good news, I suppose, Mr. Orme?

Splendid isn't it? Wonderful man, you father, truly wonderful! He can

give us all points, can't he, baron?" The baron nodded and smiled.

"Shir Stephen ish a goot man of pishness. You have a very glever fader,

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Mr. Orme!" he said, emphatically.

Efford caught Stafford's arm as he was passing on with a mechanical

smile and an inclination of the head.

"We've come in for a drink, Orme," he said. "We're going to drink luck

to the biggest thing Sir Stephen has ever done; you'll join us? Oh,

come, we can't take a refusal! Dash it all! You're in the swim, Orme,

if you haven't taken any active part in it."

Stafford glanced at Mr. Falconer, and noticed a grim smile pass over

his face. If these exultant and flushed money-spinners only guessed how

active a part he had taken, how amazed they would be! A wave of

bitterness swept over him. At such a moment men, especially young men,

become reckless; the strain is too great, and they fly to the nearest

thing for relief.

He turned back to the buffet, and the butler and the couple of footmen

opened several bottles of champagne--none of the men knew or cared how

many; several others of the financial group joined the party; the wine

went round rapidly; they were all talking and laughing except Stafford,

who remained silent and grave and moody for some little time; then he

too began to talk and laugh with the others, and his face grew flushed

and his manner excited.

Falconer, who stood a little apart, apparently drinking with the

others, but really with care and moderation, watched him under

half-lowered lids; and presently he moved round to where Stafford leant

against the table with his champagne-glass in his hand, and touching

him on the arm, said: "I hear them enquiring for you in the ball-room, Stafford."

It was the first time he had called Stafford by his Christian name, and

it struck home, as Falconer had intended it should. Stafford set his

glass down and looked round as a man does when the wine is creeping up

to his head, and he is startled by an unexpected voice.




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