female person I am a man of punctual habits, and I reached the
house as the hall clock chimed the quarter-past. My poor friend,
Tommy Deloraine, arrived along with me, and we ascended the
staircase together. I call him "my poor friend," for at the
moment Tommy was under the weather. He had the misfortune to be
a marquis, and a very rich one, and at the same time to be in
love with Claudia Barriton. Neither circumstance was in itself
an evil, but the combination made for tragedy. For Tommy's
twenty-five years of healthy manhood, his cleanly-made
up-standing figure, his fresh countenance and cheerful laugh,
were of no avail in the lady's eyes when set against the fact
that he was an idle peer. Miss Claudia was a charming girl, with
a notable bee in her bonnet. She was burdened with the cares of
the State, and had no patience with any one who took them
lightly. To her mind the social fabric was rotten beyond repair,
and her purpose was frankly destructive. I remember some of her
phrases: "A bold and generous policy of social amelioration";
"The development of a civic conscience"; "A strong hand to lop
off decaying branches from the trunk of the State." I have no
fault to find with her creed, but I objected to its practical
working when it took the shape of an inhuman hostility to that
devout lover, Tommy Deloraine. She had refused him, I believe,
three times, with every circumstance of scorn. The first time
she had analysed his character, and described him as a bundle of
attractive weaknesses. "The only forces I recognise are those of
intellect and conscience," she had said, "and you have neither."
The second time--it was after he had been to Canada on the
staff--she spoke of the irreconcilability of their political
ideals. "You are an Imperialist," she said, "and believe in an
empire of conquest for the benefit of the few. I want a little