Knowing something of fainting fits, and having noticed that he had never changed colour nor shown any of the usual signs of faintness, I presumed that he wished to deceive me, and began wondering what the attack could have been.
"You are not satisfied," he continued. "However, let it pass now. Some time I will explain."
Seeing that he wished to be alone, I said good-night.
"Can you come and dine with me to-morrow?" he asked. "I shall be alone, and should be glad to have a quiet talk with you."
Accepting the invitation gladly, I went out into the warm summer night, little thinking how much I was to learn before that door again closed behind me.
CHAPTER II
On the following evening I dined with Alan Sydney for the first time. It was one of his peculiarities not to ask acquaintances to his house; his bachelorhood excused him from the necessity. I was therefore not a little surprised to notice the dainty epicureanism of his meal. The wines were such as it is an unexpected delight to find; the service a thing to remember, but scarcely to hope to attain. Why have some men this curious power of getting their slightest wish gratified, apparently without effort? Money cannot purchase it, and ordinary mortals, whilst they approach the semblance, miss the ease and quietude.
My host talked freely on many subjects, leaving me to suggest a topic, and seeming equally at home whatever I might choose. Sport, philosophy, science, history--I tried each subject, and seemed always the pupil of an expert. At last I started on my pet hobby, Ancient Engravings. "Now," I thought, "it will be my turn."
"I know little or nothing of the subject," he said.
I went off gaily, but even while preparing to air my wisdom, he would apparently intercept my thought and take the very words out of my mouth.