Gilbert Fenton heard the familiar clash of the billiard-balls as he went into the hall, where a couple of liver-coloured setters were dozing before a great fire that roared half-way up the wide chimney.

There was no other life in the hall; and Mr.Fenton was conducted to the other end of the house, and ushered into that tobacco-tainted snuggery in which he had last seen the Baronet.

His suspicions were on the alert this time; and he fancied he could detect a look of something more than surprise in Sir David's face when the servant announced him--an uneasy look, as of a man taken at a disadvantage.
The Baronet was very gracious, however, and gave him a hearty welcome.
"I'm uncommonly glad to see you, my dear Fenton," he said, "Indeed, I have been pleased to see worse fellows than you lately, since this infernal gout has laid me up in this dreary old place.

The house is pretty full now, I am happy to say.

I have friends who will come to shoot my partridges, though they won't remember my solitude in a charitable spirit before the first of September.