PART II.—THE SECOND TEMPTATION
CHAPTER XVIII
Mr. Brown's Prophecy
"Yes, Mr. Faversham; I see such a future before you as was never possible to any other Englishman."
The speaker was a man about fifty years of age, short, stout, well fed, seemingly prosperous. A smile played around his lips—-a smile which to a casual observer suggested a kindly, almost a childlike, innocence. He might have been interested in orphan schools, charity organisations, or any other philanthropic movement. His voice, too, was sympathetic and somewhat caressing, and his whole appearance spoke of a nature full of the milk of human kindness.
The two men were sitting in the corner of a smoking-room in a London club. A most respectable club it was, whose members were in the main comprised of financiers, prosperous merchants, and men of the upper middle classes. Money was writ large everywhere, while comfort, solid comfort, was proclaimed by the huge, softly cushioned chairs, the thickly piled carpets, and the glowing fires. Any stranger entering the club would have said that its members were composed of men who, having plenty of this world's goods, meant to enjoy the comforts which their gains justly entitled them to.
Dick Faversham, to whom the words were spoken, smiled, and the smile was not without incredulity and a sense of wonder.
"Yes," went on the speaker, "you smile; you say in your heart that I am a bad example of my theories; but one mustn't be deceived by appearances. You think, because I am fat and prosperous, that I take no interest in my fellow-creatures, that I do not dream dreams, see visions, eh? Is not that so?"