The rest turned inquiring eyes on him.

"Who?" asked Lord Standon.

"Adrien Leroy. He is an artist, though he keeps his talents as secret as
if they were crimes. It was he who did the designs for my last book."

A murmur of astonishment ran through the room. Nearly every one knew
that it was to the illustrations the book owed the greater portion of
its success.

"A modesty quite unfashionable," exclaimed Lady Merivale, whose
beautiful face had flushed ever so slightly at the mention of Adrien's
name.

"Yes," admitted Paxhorn. "Men have to proclaim their gifts very loudly
in the market-place, before they sell their wares nowadays."

"Oh, Adrien is a veritable Crichton," put in Lord Standon. "There is
very little he does not know, and even that is made up by the estimable
Jasper."

"Yes, I saw them together got half an hour ago," said Paxhorn. "If I had
known of this picture, I would have got them to come with me; for
Vermont is a genius at settling any question under the sun."

"He's not always right, though," put in Lord Merivale, quietly. "What
about that horse of Leroy's? Wasn't it Vermont who was so sure of his
winning the race? Yet his Majesty did not win, did he?"

"No, I know that," said Standon, with a rueful smile, as he thought of
his added debts.