person was a small sluttish servant, with gooseberry eyes and a pasty white face. She was attired in her best blue dress, and wore a large picture-hat trimmed with more flowers than adorned the garden. Also she had on gloves, and carried a yellow umbrella. As soon as she saw Frank she burst into voluble speech.
"Yer the gent as wishes to see Mr. Starth, and I am glad to see you, sir, for he said as you was goin' to be 'ere at four, it now bein' half-past, and I'm goin' out, my young man waiting for me. This way, sir, and please be quick, as I am in a hurry. Missus 'ave gone out too, but the tea's all ready and the kettle on the fire."
Almost before she finished this incoherent address, she conducted the astonished Frank up a stuffy staircase, and into a front room. Hastily shoving him into this, she banged the door, and hurried away, presumably to meet her young man. Lancaster, puzzled by this reception, and by the mean look of the room in which he found himself, halted at the door, waiting for his host to speak. Starth was sitting in an armchair by the window, with a book. He threw this down, and advanced to his visitor with outstretched hands.
"I'm glad you've come, Lancaster," he said, eagerly. "I am so ashamed of myself that I hardly know what to say."
"Say nothing more," said Frank, laying aside his hat and cane. "I am only too glad to come to an understanding. I can't comprehend why you quarrel with me."
"Jealousy," said Starth, quickly, and sat down.
"Of me and Miss Berry? Well, you needn't be. I don't love her."
Starth pulled down the blind so as to prevent his discoloured eye showing up too badly. "I thought you were to marry her?" he remarked.
"Certainly not. Such an idea never entered my head. Who said so?"
"Captain Berry."
Frank looked puzzled, then laughed. "I should have thought Berry more ambitious for his niece. I haven't any money."
"That's just it," said Starth, slowly. "If you are poor, how did you come to give her those diamonds?"
"I never did. I heard you gave them to her."
Starth laughed, and glanced round the stuffy room. "Would I live in this dog's kennel if I could afford such stones?" he said. "My dear Lancaster, I'm desperately hard up. Between my sister and myself there is enough to live on, no more."
"I saw your sister last night," said Frank.
"Yes. She lives in Essex, but happened to be in town, so I got her a box. She went back this morning with Mrs. Perth."
"Is that the lady who was with her?"
Starth nodded. "She and my sister live together in a small cottage at Wargrove. But I needn't bore you with my family history. I want you to accept my apology."
"I do, Starth. But why did you mention my parents?"
"It was the only thing I could think of."
"To make me angry, I suppose? H'm! You know nothing about me."
"No. Is there anything interesting to know?"
"I fear not," said Lancaster. "My story is a dull one. Still, I thought that Jarman might have said something."
"He said nothing. I never asked about you," responded the other, quickly. "Fact is, Lancaster, I don't think you and I ever got on well together. My fault, I'm afraid, as I have such a bad temper. I am jealous, too, as I love Miss Berry and want to marry her."
"You can, for all I care," said Lancaster, quietly. "I did admire her greatly, but I never had any intention of marrying her. As to the diamonds, who told you that I gave them to her?"
"No one directly. But Berry hinted--"
"Why should he hint?" said Frank, thoughtfully. "He knows I'm as poor as the proverbial church mouse. Do you think he wants me, or expects me, to marry his niece?"
"Yes, I do," said Starth, promptly; "and that was why I grew jealous."
"Then I can't see his reason. I have no money, no position, and no influence. Miss Berry doesn't love me--"
"The Captain says she does," said Starth, quickly.
"Oh, that's rubbish! She likes me because I write her songs, and we get on well together. As for love--" Frank shrugged his shoulders.
"Have you never been in love, Lancaster?"
Frank grew red and shook his head, looking down meanwhile. Starth's jealous eyes followed his every movement, and he eagerly waited for an answer. But none came. Frank could not bring himself to say that he had fallen in love with a girl he had seen but once, and to say it to her brother. In place of gratifying Starth's curiosity he changed the subject. "What a queer servant that was who admitted me," he said. "She was quite angered because I had delayed her appointment with her young man. Had I known, I'd have been punctual."
"It's Tilly," said Starth, carelessly. "A queer creature, as you say--a London slavey of the regular type. I believe Mrs. Betts--that's my landlady--gets her cheap from a workhouse. I let her go to see her young man because Mrs. Betts, who keeps her well in hand, is away at the wedding of some cousin or another. I've got all the house to myself till nine o'clock. But, I say, let's have tea."
Frank made no objection, as he was thirsty, and Starth went down to get the hot water. Pending his return Lancaster strolled about the room, and looked at the photographs. There was one of the beautiful girl he had seen on the previous night, and he nearly stole it. Also he was taken with a gorgeous portrait of a tall, thick-lipped negress, which had an Arabic inscription written at the foot. "Who is this, Starth?" asked Frank, when his host returned with the tea-tray and a kettle of hot water.
Starth glanced at the photograph. "A girl called Balkis. I believe she comes from Zanzibar. I met her at the Docks when I was exploring an opium den."
"H'm! She looks as though she had a temper."
"She has. Took a fancy to me, and gave me her picture, with that writing. It's something about Allah and good luck, I believe. I saw her a good many times at that opium shop. She runs it, I believe."
Lancaster sat down while Starth made ready the tea. It struck him, from these remarks, and from a certain strange odour in the room, that Starth smoked opium. Perhaps the drug was accountable for his queer tempers and utter disregard of decency. Frank began to be rather sorry he had quarrelled with the man, since, if he smoked opium, he was to a certain extent not accountable for his actions. Starth, with his swollen face and discoloured eye, looked queer and grim, and had a haggard look about him which hinted at excess of some sort.
"Here you are," said Starth, passing along a cup. "Do you take sugar Or perhaps," he added, as he handed over the basin, "you would like a drink of whisky?"
"Tea's good enough for me," said Frank, sipping. "Well, Starth, I'm glad we've come to some sort of understanding. I hate rows."
"So do I, but jealousy always makes my blood boil."
"But, you see, you've no cause to be jealous."
"I can see that now. But Berry kept hinting that it was an arranged thing between you and Fan."
"H'm! I'll have a talk with him. He's no right to make false statements of that kind. I wonder what his game is. I'm certainly not a desirable match for his niece, putting aside the fact that she doesn't care two pins for anyone but herself."
"Are you sure of that, Lancaster?" said Starth, with rather an anxious look. "I'm mad about her, and want to marry her."
"I shouldn't like Banjo Berry for a connection myself," said Lancaster, setting down his cup. "What a strange taste that tea has."
"They never clean the kettles here," said Starth, hastily. "It's smoke or fur inside the kettle, or something. My tea tastes bad also."
Frank refused another cup, and smoked a cigarette while Starth related his feelings for Fairy Fan in detail. Also he mentioned that he hoped to see much of Lancaster,