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After tea I returned to my quarters, found that my things had been unpacked, the trunk and suit-cases removed, a large bowl of roses installed, and the rooms looking as though I had inhabited them for years.

What should I do? Seek out Anthony, suggest a walk, and make his better acquaintance; or, treading warily, leave him alone for the present?

There was a knock at my door, and in answer to my call, Anthony entered.

"Hullo," said I, refraining from adding 'old chap' or adopting any sort of avuncular or heavy-father line.

"Hullo," was the reply. "You didn't bring any foils with you, I suppose?"

"No. But I'll soon get them."

This was excellent.

"Had any fencing lessons?" I asked.

"Only from a gym-instructor at school," replied Anthony.

And in cool and quiet comment, added,

"A clumsy lout."

"H'm!" thought I.

"You'll give me lessons, won't you?" he asked.

"Rather!" said I. "More than you'll like, perhaps."

"No, I don't think you'll do that.

"What I really want," he continued, "is to learn to fence very well indeed, and then to have a duel, with real rapiers and sharp points. Father has one, you know. My ancestors'. Charles the First's time. I want to use it in a fight."