"I belong to the Register, my lords," said his companion, preparing to write.
"I am afraid, gentlemen, you are under some mistake," said Reg. "We are not lords, nor anything of the kind, we are happy to say. Here are our cards."
"But you are travelling incognito, perhaps?" suggested one.
"No, we are both Australian born, and if I don't make a mistake, I believe I recognise Joe Watson," answered Hal.
"That's my name. Why, now I know you—Winter; Hal Winter, of course," and they shook hands, laughing heartily over the joke.
"Then who is that old fool who told us a long yarn about your being lords in disguise? I am awfully sorry you are not."
"And why, Watson?" asked Hal.
"Oh, news is scarce, and the arrivals of nobility are welcomed nowadays. They catch on, you know."
"Don't understand, Watson."
"Why, from a matrimonial point of view. There are so many mammas lying in wait to receive them. But I must go. I am glad to see you, Winter; call at the office and look me up, some time or other."