the fullest sympathy. "That is why so many people are afraid of death. They 're afraid of the change of habit."
And after that nothing more was said until they came to the lodge gates of that very large, ugly, convenient and modern house, which John Brassington had built and for no reason at all had called "Lauderdale."
"Shall I come up to the door with you, John?" said Mr. Kirby.
"If you don't mind," answered Brassington doubtfully.
"Not a bit," said Mr. Kirby cheerfully. "If I had grounds as big as yours I shouldn't go through them alone."
The two men walked up the short way to the main door. When it was opened for them, the first thing Mr. Brassington said to his servant was—
"Has anyone brought back my overcoat?"
The servant had seen nothing of it.
"It 's not here," said Mr. Brassington, turning round to Mr. Kirby. "Come in."
"No, I won't, John," said Mr. Kirby. "I 'll ring you up in the morning. I 'll do better than come in, I 'll try and find it for you."
"You 're a good friend, Charles," said John
