a card which had, evidently, passed through a good many hands.

"A sharper," Niebeldingk repeated to himself, "but on a pretty low
plane." He read the card: "Kohleman, retired clerk of court." And
below was printed the addition: "Knight of several orders."

"What decorations have you?" he asked.

"I have been very graciously granted the Order of the Crown, fourth
class, and the general order for good behaviour."

"Sit down," Niebeldingk replied, impelled by a slight instinctive
respect.

"Thank you, I'll take the liberty," the old gentleman answered and sat
down on the extreme edge of a chair.

"Once on the stairs you--" he was about to say "attacked me," but he
repressed the words. "I know," he began, "what your business is.
And now tell me frankly: Do you think any man in the world such a fool
as to contemplate marriage because a frivolous young thing whose
acquaintance he made at a supper given to 'cocottes' accompanies him,
in the middle of the night, to his bachelor quarters? Do you think
that a reasonable proposition?"

"No," the old gentleman answered with touching honesty. "But you know
it's pretty discouraging to have Meta get into that kind of a mess.
I've had my suspicions for some time that that baggage is a keener,
and I've often said to my sister: 'Look here, these theatrical women
are no proper company for a girl--'"