"Don't think anything of it."
"Answered in the true spirit of a Briton!" laughed the other. "I fancy, too, it'll be a long time before John Bull ceases to stamp around, master of his own shores, or Britannia no longer rules the deep. But how is your friend, Sir Charles Wray? I had the pleasure of meeting him the other morning in the court room."
"Same as usual, I imagine, Judge Beeson."
"And his fair niece, she takes kindly to the town and its gaieties?"
"Very kindly," dryly.
"A beautiful girl, our young Australian!" The elder man toyed with his glass, stirred the contents and sipped. "By the way, didn't I see John Steele in their box at the opera the other night?"
"It is possible," shortly.
"Rising man, that!" observed the other lightly. "Combination of brains and force! Did you ever notice his fist? It might belong to a prize-fighter, except that the hands are perfectly kept! You'd know at once he was a man accustomed to fighting, who would sweep aside obstacles, get what he wanted!"
"Think so?" Lord Ronsdale smoked steadily. "You, as a magistrate, I suppose, know him well?"
"Should hardly go that far; taciturn chap, don't you know! I don't believe any one really knows him."