early infancy.)

But there are no such things as political blind alleys to a man who is
a judge of indiscretion, provided he has certain other unusual gifts as
well. Sir Roland Samson, K. C. S. I., was not at all a disappointed man,
nor even a discouraged one.

Most people were at a disadvantage coming up the path through the
Blaines' front garden. There was a feeling all the way of being looked
down on from the veranda that took ten minutes to recover from in the
subsequent warmth of Western hospitality. But Samson had learned
long ago that appearance was all in his favor, and he reenforced it with
beautiful buff riding-boots that drew attention to firm feet and manly bearing.
It did him good to be looked at, and he felt, as a painstaking gentleman
should, that the sight did spectators no harm.

"All alone?" he asked, feeling sure that Mrs. Blaine was pleased to see
him, and shifting the chair beside her as he sat down in order to see
her face better. "Husband in the hills as usual? I must choose a Sunday
next time and find him in."

Tess smiled. She was used to the remark. He always made it, but
always kept away on Sundays.

"There was a party at my house last night, and every one agreed what
an acquisition you and your husband are to Sialpore. You're so refreshing--
quite different to what we're all used to."

"We're enjoying the novelty too--at least, Dick doesn't have much time
for enjoyment, but--"