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"
"And when might you expect 'im back?"
"Why, there's no telling, Mr. Stevens."
"Eh?" exclaimed Mr. Stevens, and sat up very suddenly.
"'Is movements, sir, is quite--ah--quite metehoric!"
"My eye!" exclaimed Mr. Stevens, gulping his brandy and soda rather
hastily.
"Metehoric is the only word for it, sir!" pursued Mr. Brimberly with a
slow nod. "'E may drop in on me at any moment, sir!"
"Why, then," said his guest, rising, "p'r'aps I'd better be moving?"
"On the other 'and," pursued Mr. Brimberly, smiling and caressing his
left whisker, "'e may be on 'is way to Hafghanistan or Hasia Minor at
this pre-cise moment--'e is that metehoric, lord! These millionaires is
much of a muchness, sir, 'ere to-day, gone to-morrer. Noo York this
week, London or Paris the next. Young Har is always upsetting my plans,
'e is, and that's a fact, sir! Me being a nat'rally quiet, reasonable,
and law-abiding character, I objects to youthful millionaires on
principle, Mr. Stevens, on principle!"
"Ditto!" nodded Mr. Stevens, his glance wandering uneasily to the door
again, "ditto with all my 'eart, sir.


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