“That is impossible.  Look at—­”

He named some names, certain of them well known enough.

The other shook his head.

“Where we have been they don’t believe in London professors, and speech-makers, and chaps like that.  They know that the North is the backbone and the brain of England, and in the North they want to be spoken to by a North-countryman.”

“I am a Buckinghamshire man.”

“That may be where you live, sir:  but you are one of the Brands of Darlington,” said the other, doggedly.

By-and-by they entered the huge, resounding station.

“What are you going to do to-night, Humphreys?  Come and have some dinner with me, and we will look in afterward at the Century.”

Humphreys looked embarrassed for a moment.

“I was thinking of going to the Coger’s Hall, sir,” said he, hitting upon an excuse.  “I have heard some good speaking there.”

“Mostly bunkum, isn’t it?”

“No, sir.”

“All right.  Then I shall see you to-morrow morning in Lisle Street.  Good-bye.”

He jumped into a hansom, and was presently rattling away through the busy streets.  How sweet and fresh was the air, even here in the midst of the misty and golden city!  The early summer was abroad; there was a flush of green on the trees in the squares.  When he got down to the Embankment, he was quite surprised by the beauty of the gardens; there were not many gardens in the towns he had chiefly been living in.

He dashed up the narrow wooden stairs.

“Look alive now, Waters:  get my bath ready.”

“It is ready, sir.”

“And breakfast!”

“Whenever you please, sir.”

He took off his dust-smothered travelling-coat, and was about to fling it on the couch, when he saw lying there two pieces of some brilliant stuff that were strange to him.

“What are these things?”

“They were left, sir, by Mr. ——­, of Bond Street, on approval.  He will call this afternoon.”

“Tell him to go to the devil!” said Brand, briefly, as he walked off into his bedroom.

Presently he came back.

“Stay a bit,” said he; and he took up the two long strips of silk-embroidered stuff—­Florentine work, probably, of about the end of the sixteenth century.  The ground was a delicate yellowish-gray, with an initial letter worked in various colors over it.  Mr. ——­, of Bond Street, knew that Brand had often amused his idle hours abroad in picking up things like this, chiefly as presents to lady friends, and no doubt thought they would be welcome enough, even for bachelors’ rooms.

“Tell him I will take them.”

“But the price, sir?”

“Ask him his price; beat him down; and keep the difference.”