perfectly nominal in comparison with the risk involved, he never showed—I don’t want to misjudge him, but I certainly never observed—by the subtlest shade of deference that the action had struck him as in any way magnanimous.
I do not ignore the fact that it was chiefly through his information and advice in the matter of the Great Glory Reefs that I am now able to devote myself entirely to my private pursuits, but if a balance of our whole lives was taken, I think it would be found that Henry has come off very well indeed, and although I should hesitate to call him ungrateful, he certainly appears to take a good deal as a matter of course.
"I knew that you wouldn't mind rather short notice, old chap," he said at dinner (his extreme heartiness and display of fraternal affection are becoming rather trying at our ages); "and, as far as that goes, I did not know myself before yesterday. Now, how long do you think that I can stay?"
"The week-end at the least," I replied, with as near an approach to his own geniality as I could summon up. "Perhaps even a whole week; but I know how busy you are."
"Eighteen hours," he said decidedly. "To-morrow; the twelve-thirty. Now what do you think of that?"
"It seems hardly worth while coming for," I replied sincerely. "Can't you possibly make it—say a full day? There is a very good night train."
"I'm afraid not," he said, with quite a despondent air. "You see, it would cut into the next morning. As you say, it does hardly seem worth the journey, only I happened to have some business at Bristol. If it had not been for that I expect I should have sent Bobbie on alone."
"Bobbie?" I said, not catching his meaning. "Bobbie?"
