down for fresh air and exercise."

"Two very good things in their way, sir, but easily overdone," was the
mild rejoinder. "These hills are terrible unless you're at them all the
time."

Tallente drank his whisky and soda almost greedily and felt the benefit
of it, although he was still weary. He had walked for five miles in the
company of ghosts and their faces had been grey. Perhaps, too, it was
the passing of his youth which brought this tiredness to his limbs.

"Robert," he confessed abruptly, "I was a fool to come down here at
all."

"It's dreary at this time of the year unless you've time to shoot or
hunt, sir. Why not motor to Bath to-morrow? I could wire for rooms,
and I could drive you up to London the next day. Motoring's a good way
of getting the air, sir, and you won't overtire yourself."

"I'll think of it in the morning," his master promised.

"My wife has found the silver, sir," Robert announced, as he turned to
leave the room, "and I managed to get a little fish. That, with some
soup, a pheasant, and a fruit tart, we thought--"

"I shall be alone, Robert," Tallente interrupted. "There is no one
coming for dinner."

The man's disappointment was barely concealed. He sighed as he took up
the tray.