 6 There are times when all nature seems to smile, yet when to the sensitive mind it will be faintly brought that the possibilities are quite tremendously otherwise, if one will consider them pro and con. I mean to say, one often suspects things may happen when it doesn't look so. The succeeding three days passed was so ordered calm that little would any but a profound thinker have fancied tragedy to lurk so near their placid surface. Mrs. Effie and Mrs. Belnapped Jackson continued to plan the approaching social campaign at Red Gap. Cousin Egbert and The Mixer continued their card game for the trifling stake of a shilling a game, or two bits as it is known in the American monetary system, and our host continued his recreation. Each morning I turned him out in the smartest of fishing costumes, and each evening I assisted him to change. It is true, I was now compelled to observe, at these times, a certain lofty irritability in his character. Yet I more than half fancied this to be clearly assumed in order to inform me that he was not unaccustomed to services such as I rendered him. There was that about him. I mean to say, when he sharply rebuked me for clumsiness, or cried out, stupid, it had a perfunctory languor as if meant to show me he could address a servant in what he believed to be the grand manner. In this, to be sure, he was so oddly wrong that the pathos of it quite drowned what I might otherwise have felt of resentment. But I next observed that he was sharp in the same manner with the hairy, backwards person who took him to fish each day, using words to him, which I, for one, would have employed had I thought them meditated only after the gravest hesitation. I have before remarked that I did not like the gleam in this person's eyes. He was very, apparently, a not quite nice person. Also I more than once observed him to wink at Cousin Egbert in an evil manner. As I have so truly said, how close may tragedy be to us when life seems most correct? It was Belnap Jackson's custom to raise a view-haloo each evening when he returned down the lake, so that we might gather at the dock to oversee his landing. I must admit that he disembarked was somewhat the manner of a visiting royalty, demanding much attention and assistance with his impedimenta. Undoubtedly he liked to be looked at. This was what one rather felt, and I can fancy that this very human trait of his had in a manner worn upon the probably undisciplined nerves of the backwood's josser, had in fact deprived him of his goat as the native people have it. Be this as it may, we gathered at the dock on the afternoon of the third day of our stay to assist at the return. As the native log-craft neared the dock, our host daringly arose to a graceful kneeling posture in the bow and saluted us charmingly, the wood's person in the stern wielding his single oar in gloomy silence. At the moment a most poetic image occurred to me that he was like a dull, grim figure of fate that fetches us low at the moment of our highest seeming. I mean to say it was a silly thought, perhaps, yet I afterward recalled it most vividly. Holding his creel aloft our host hailed us, full to-day, thanks to going where I wished and paying no attention to silly guides' talk. He beamed upon us in an unquestionably superior manner, and again from the moody figure at the stern I intercepted the flash of a wink to Cousin Egbert. Then as the frail craft had all but touched the dock and our host had half risen, there was a sharp dipping of the thing, and he was ejected into the chilling waters, where he almost instantly sank. There were loud cries of alarm from all, including the woodsman himself, who had kept the craft upright, and in these moments Mr. Belknapp Jackson heartily joined. The moment his head appeared above the surface, calling, Help! Help! in the quite loudest of tones, which was thoughtless enough, as we were close at hand and could easily have heard his ordinary speaking voice. The woodsperson now stepped to the dock, and firmly grasping the collar of the drowning man, hauled him out with but little effort, at the same time becoming voluble with apologies and sympathy. The rescued man, however, was quite off his head with rage, and bluntly berated the fellow for having tried to assassinate him. Indeed he put forth rather a torrent of execration, but to all of this the fellow merely repeated his crude protestations of regret and astonishment, seeming to be sincerely grieved that his intentions should have been doubted. From his friends about him the unfortunate man was receiving the most urgent advice to seek dry garments, lest he perish of chill. Whereupon he turned abruptly to me and cried, Well, stupid! Don't you see the state that fellow has put in? Are you doing? Have you lost your wits? Now I had suffered a very proper alarm and solicitude for him, but the injustice of this got a bit on me. I mean to say, I suddenly felt a bit of temper myself, though to be sure retaining my control. Yes, sir, quite so, sir, I replied smoothly. I'll have you right as rain in no time at all, sir, and started to conduct him off the dock. But now, having gone a little distance, he began to utter the most violent threats against the woods-person, declaring in fact he would pull the fellow's nose. However I restrained him from rushing back, as I subtly felt I was wished to do, and he at length consented again to be led toward his hut. But now the woods-person called out, You're forgetting all your pretties, by which I saw him to mean the fishing-impedimenta he had placed on the dock. And most unreasonably at this Mr. Belknap Jackson again turned upon me, wishing anew to be told if I had lost my wits, and directing me to fetch the stuff. Again I was conscious of that within me, which no gentleman's man should confess to. I mean to say, I felt like shaking him. But I hastened back to fetch the rod, the creel, the luncheon hamper, the midge ointment, the camera, and other articles which the woods- fellow handed me. With these somewhat awkwardly carried, I returned to our still turbulent host, more like a volcano he was than a man who has had a narrow squeak from drowning. And before we had gone a dozen feet more, he again turned and declared he would go back and thrashed the unspeakable cad within an inch of his life. Their relative's sizes rendered an attempt of this sort quite too unwise. I was conscious of renewed irritation toward him. Indeed the vulgar words, oh, stow that piffle, swiftly formed in the back of my mind. But again I controlled myself as the chap was now sneezing violently. Best hurry on, sir. I said, with exemplary tact, one might contract a severe head cold from such a wetting. And further endeavored to soothe him while I started ahead to lead him away from the fellow. Then there happened that which fulfilled my direst premonitions. Looking back from a moment of calm, the psychology of the crisis is of rudimentary simplicity. Enraged beyond measure at the woodsperson, Mr. Bell Napjaxon yet retained a fine native caution which counseled him to attempt no violence upon that offender. But his mental tension was such that it could be relieved only by his attacking someone, preferably someone forbidden to retaliate. I walked there temptingly, but a pace ahead of him, after my well-meant word of advice. I make no defence of my own course. I am aware there can be none. I can only plead that I had already been vexed not a little by his unjust accusations of stupidity, and dismiss with as few words as possible an incident that will ever seem to me quite too indecently criminal. Briefly, then, with my well-intended, best not lower yourself, sir. Mr. Bell Napjaxon forgot himself, and I forgot myself. It will be recalled that I was in front of him, but I turned rather quickly. His belongings I had carried were widely disseminated. Instantly there were wild outcries from the others who had started toward the main or living-house. He's killed, Charles! I heard Mrs. Bell Napjaxon scream. Then came the deep-chested rumble of the mixer. Jackson kicked him first. They ran for us. They had reached us while our host was down, even while my fist was still clenched. Now gain the unfortunate man cried, Help! as his wife assisted him to his feet. Sanford Officer cried she. The man's an anarchist shouted her husband. Nonsense! boomed the mixer. Jackson got what he was looking for. Do it myself if he kicked me. Oh, ma! Oh, Mater! cried her daughter tearfully. Gee, he done it in one punch! I heard cousin Egbert say with what I was aghast to suspect was admiration. Mrs. Effie, trembling, could but glare at me and gasp. Mercifully she was beyond speech for the moment. Mr. Bell Napjaxon was now painfully rubbing his right eye, which was not what he should have done, and I said as much. Beg pardon, sir, but one does better with a bit of raw beef. How dare you! You great hulking brute! cried his wife, and made as if to shield her husband from another attack from me, which I submit was unjust. Bill's riot, said cousin Egbert casually, put a piece of raw steak on it. Gee, with one wallop. And then quite strangely for a moment we all amably discussed whether cold compresses might not be better. Presently our host was led off by his wife. Mrs. Effie followed them moaning. Oh, oh, oh, in the keenest distress. At this I took to my own room in dire confusion, making no doubt I would presently be given in charge and left to languish in jail, perhaps given six months hard. Cousin Egbert came to me in a little while and laughed heartily at my fear that anything legal would be done. He also made some ill-timed compliments on the neatness of the blow I had dealt, Mr. Belknapp Jackson. But these I found in wretched taste, and was begging him to desist when the mixer entered and began to speak much in the same strain. Don't you ever dare do a thing like that again? She warned me. Unless I got a ringside seat, to which I remained severely silent, for I felt my offence should not be made light of. Three rousin' cheers, exclaimed Cousin Egbert, were at the two most unfeelingly went through a vivid pantomime of cheering. Our host, I understood, had his dinner in bed that night. And throughout the evening, as I sat solitary in remorse, came the mocking strains of another of their American folk songs with the refrain, You made me what I am today. I hope you're satisfied. I conceived it to be the mixer and Cousin Egbert who did this. And considering the plight of our host, I thought it in the worst possible taste. I had raised my hand against the one American I had met, who was at all times vogue. And not only this, for I now recalled a certain phrase I had flung out as I stood over him, ranting indeed no better than an anarchist, a phrase which showed my poor culture to be the flimsiest veneer. Late in the night, as I lay looking back on the frightful scene, I recalled with wonder a swift picture of Cousin Egbert, caught as I once looked back to the dock. He had most amazingly shaken the wood's person by the hand, quickly but with marked cordiality. And yet I am quite certain he had never been presented to the fellow. Promptly next morning came the dreaded summons to meet Mrs. Effie. I was, of course, prepared to accept instant dismissal without a character, if indeed I were not to be given in charge. I found her wearing an expression of the utmost sternness, erect and formidable by the now silent phonograph. Cousin Egbert, who was present, also wore an expression of sternness, though I perceived him to wink at me. I really don't know what we're going to do with you, ruggles, began the stricken woman. And so done out she plainly was that I had once felt the warmest sympathy for her as she continued. First you lead poor Cousin Egbert into a drunken debouch. Cousin Egbert here coughed nervously and eyed me with strong condemnation. Then you behave like a murderer. What have you to say for yourself? At this I saw there was little I could say, except that I had coarsely given way to the brute in me, and yet I knew I should try to explain. I daresay, madam, it may have been because Mr. Belnap Jackson was quite sober at the unfortunate moment. Of course Charles was sober! The odd deer! What of it? I was remembering an occasion at Chains-Watton when Lord Ivor Cradley behaved toward me somewhat as Mr. Belnap Jackson did last night, and when my own deportment was quite all that could be wished. It occurs to me now that it was because his lordship was, how shall I say, a quite far gone in liquor at the time, so that I could, without loss of dignity, pass it off as a mere prank. Indeed he regarded it as such himself, performing the act with a good nature that I found quite irresistible, and I am certain that neither his lordship nor I have ever thought the less of each other because of it. I revert to this merely to show that I have not always acted in a ruffianly manner under these circumstances. It seems rather to depend upon how the thing is done. The mood of the performer, his mental state, had Mr. Belnap Jackson being, pardon me, quite drunk, I feel that the outcome would have been happier for us all. So far as I have thought along these lines, it seems to me that if one is to be kicked at all, one must be kicked good-naturedly. I mean to say, with a certain camaraderie, a lightness, a gaiety, a genuine good-will, that for the moment expresses itself uncouthly, an element I regret to say that was conspicuously lacking from the brief activities of Mr. Belnap Jackson, I never heard such crazy talk, responded Mrs. Effie, and really I never saw such a man as you are for wanting people to become disgustingly drunk. You made poor cousin Egbert and Jeff Tuttle act like beasts, and now nothing will satisfy you, but that Charles should roll in the gutter. Such dissipated talk I never did here, and poor Charles rarely taken anything but a single glass of wine, it upsets him so. Even our reception punch he finds too stimulatin'. I mean to say, the woman had cleanly missed my point, for never have I advocated the use of fermented liquors to excess. But I saw it was no good trying to tell her this. And the worst of it, she went rapidly on, cousin Egbert here is acting stranger than I ever knew him to act. He swears, if he can't keep you, he'll never have another man, and you know yourself what that means in his case. And Mrs. Pattengill saying she means to employ you herself if we let you go. Heaven knows what the poor woman can be thinking of. Oh, it's awful. And everything was going so beautifully. Of course, Charles would simply never be brought to accept an apology. I am only too anxious to make one, I submitted. Here's the poor fellow now, said cousin Egbert almost gleefully, and our host entered. He carried a patch over his right eye, and was not tired for sport on the lake, but in a dark morning suit of quietly beautiful lines that I thought showed a fine sense of the situation. He shot me one superior glance from his left eye and turned to Mrs. Effie. I see you still harbor the Ruffian. I've just given him a call down, said Mrs. Effie, plainly ill at ease. And he says it was all because you were sober, that if you'd been in the state, Lord Iver Craddly was, the time it happened at Chains Watten, he wouldn't have done anything to you, probably. What's this? Lord Iver Craddly, Chains Watten? The man seemed to be curiously interested by the mere names in spite of himself. His lordship was at Chains Watten for the shooting, I suppose. This most amazingly to me. A house party at Whitsentide, sir, I explained. Ah, and you say, his lordship was? Oh, quite, quite in his cups, sir. If I might explain, it was that, sir. It's being done under circumstances, and in a certain entirely genial spirit of irritation, to which I could take no offense, sir. His lordship is a very decent sort, sir. I've known him intimately for years. Dear, dear, he replied, too bad. And I dare say, you thought me out of temper last night? Nothing of the sort. You should have taken it in quite the same spirit as you did from Lord Iver Craddly. It seemed different, sir. I said firmly. If I may take the liberty of putting it so, I felt quite offended by your manner. I missed from it at the most critical moment, as one might say, a certain urbanity that I found in his lordship, sir. Well, well, well. It's too bad, really. I'm quite aware that I show a sort of briskness at times, but mind you, it's all on the surface. Had you known me as long as you've known his lordship, I dare say you'd have noticed the same rough urbanity in me as well. I rather fancy some of us over here don't do those things so very differently. A few of us, at least. I'm glad indeed to hear it, sir. It's only necessary to understand that there is a certain mood in which one really cannot permit oneself to be. You perceive, I trust. Perfectly, perfectly, said he, and I can only express my regret that you should have mistaken my own mood, which I am confident was exactly the thing his lordship might have felt. I gladly accept your apology, sir. I returned quickly, as I should have accepted his lordships had his manner permitted any misapprehension on my part. And in return I wish to apologize most contritely for the phrase I applied to you just after it happened, sir. I rarely use strong language, but I remember hearing none, said he. I regret to say, sir, that I called you a blighted little mug. You needn't have mentioned it. He replied with just a trace of sharpness. And I trust that in future. I am sure, sir, that in future you will give me no occasion to misunderstand your intentions. No more than would his lordship. I added, as he raised his brows. Thus, in a manner wholly unexpected, was a frightful situation eased off. I'm so glad it settled! cried Mrs. Effie, who had listened almost breathlessly to our exchange. I fancy I settled it as proudly would have. Eh, ruggles! And the man actually smiled at me. Entirely so, sir, said I. If only it doesn't get out, said Mrs. Effie now. We shouldn't want it known in red gap. Think of the talk! Certainly! rejoined Mr. Bell-Napjax and Jauntily. We are all here, above gossip, about an affair of that sort. I am sure. He broke off and looked uneasily at cousin Egbert, who coughed into his hand and looked out over the lake before he spoke. What would I want to tell a thing like that for? he demanded, indignantly, as if an accusation had been made against him. But I saw his eyes glitter with an evil light. An hour later I chanced to be with him in our detached hut when the mixer entered. What happened? she demanded. What do you reckon happened? Affirmed cousin Egbert. They get to talking about Lord Ivy Craddles or some guy, and before we know it, Mr. Bell-Napjax is apologizing to Bill here. No! bellowed the mixer. Sure did he! affirmed cousin Egbert. Here they grasped each other's arms and did a rude native dance about the room. Nor did they desist when I sought to explain that the name was not at all Ivy Craddles. End of Chapter 6 Chapter 7 of Ruggles of Red Gap by Harry Leon Wilson. This the provoking courting is in the public domain. Chapter 7 Now once more it seemed that for a time I might lead a sanely ordered existence. Not for long did I hope it. I think I had become resigned to the unending series of shocks that seemed to compose the daily life in North America. Few had been my peaceful hours since that fatal evening in Paris. And the shocks had become increasingly violent. When I tried to picture what the next might be, I found myself shattering. For the present, like a stag that has eluded the hounds, with hears their distant baying, I lay panting in momentary security, gathering breath for some new course. I mean to say, one couldn't tell what might happen next. Again and again I found myself coming all over frightened. Holy restored I was now in the esteem of Mr. Belnap Jackson, who never tired of discussing with me our own life and people. Indeed he was quite the most intelligent foreigner I had encountered. I may seem to exaggerate in the American fashion, but I doubt if a single one of the others could have named the Counties of England, or the present Lord Mayor of London. Our host was not like that. Also he early gave me to know that he felt quite as we do concerning the rebellion of our American colonies, including it a matter for the deepest regret. And justly proud he was of the circumstance that at the time of that rebellion his own family had put all possible obstacles in the way of the traitorous Washington, to be sure I dare say he may have boasted a bit on this. It was during the long journey across America which we now set out upon that I came to this sympathetic understanding of his character, and of the chagrin he constantly felt at being compelled to live among people with whom he could have as little sympathy as I myself had. This journey began pleasantly enough, and through the farming counties of Philadelphia, Ohio, and Chicago, and was not without interest. Beyond came an incredibly large region, much like the steppes of Siberia, I fancy. Vast uninhabited stretches of heath and down, with but here and there, some rude settlement about which the poor peasants would eagerly assemble as our train passed through. I could not wonder that our own travellers have always spoken so disparagingly of the American civilization. It is a country that would never do with us. Although we lived in this train a matter of nearly four days, I fancy not a single person, dressed for dinner, as one would on ship-board, even Belknap Jackson, dined in a lounge suit, though he wore gloves constantly by day, which was more than I could get Cousin Egbert to do. As we went ever farther over these leagues of fen and fell and rolling velt, I could but speculate unquietly as to what sort of place the red gap must be. A residential town for gentlemen and families I had understood, with a little colony of people that really mattered, as I had gathered from Mrs. Effie. And yet I was unable to divine their object in going so far away to live. One goes to distant places for the winter sports or for big game-shooting, but this seemed rather grotesquely perverse. Little did I then dream of the spiritual agencies that were to ensure my gradual understanding of the town and its people. Unsuspectingly I fronted a future so wildly improbable that no power could have made me credit it had it then been foretold by the most rarely endowed gypsy. It is always now with a sort of terror that I look back to those last moments before my destiny had unfolded far enough to be actually alarming. I was as one floating in fenced security down the calm river above their famous Niagara Falls to be presently dashed without warning over the horrible verge. I mean to say, I never suspected. Our last day of travel arrived. We were now in a roughened and most untidy welter of mountain and jungle and glen, with violent tarns and bleak bits of moorland that had all too evidently never known the calming touch of the landscape gardener. A region moreover peopled by a much more lawless appearing peasantry than I had observed back in the Chicago counties, people for the most part quite wretchedly gotten up and distinctly of the lower or working classes. Late in the afternoon our train wound out of a narrow cutting and into a valley that broadened away on every hand to distant mountains. Beyond doubt this prospect could, in the loose way of speaking, be called scenery, but of too violent a character it was for cultivated tastes. Then as my eye caught the vague outlines of a settlement or a village in the midst of this valley, Cousin Egbert, who also looked from the coach window, amazed me by crying out, There she is, little old red gap, the fastest growing town in the state, if any one should ask you. Yes, sir, I'll try to remember, sir. I said, wondering why I should be asked this. Garden spot of the world. He added in a kind of ecstasy, to which I made no response for this was too preposterous. Nearing the place our train passed an immense hoarding erected by the roadway. A score of feet high, I should say, and at least a dozen times as long, upon which was emblazoned in mammoth red letters on a black ground. Keep your eye on red gap. At either end of this lettering was painted a gigantic, staring human eye. Regarding this monstrosity with startled interest I heard myself addressed by Bill Knapp Jackson. The sort of vulgarity I'm obliged to contend with, said he, with a contemptuous gesture toward the hoarding. Indeed, the thing lacked refinement in its diction. While the painted eyes were not art in any true sense of the word. The work of our precious chamber of commerce, he added, though I pleaded with them for days and days. It's a sort of thing would never do with us, sir, I said. It's what one has to expect from a commercialized bourgeoisie, he returned bitterly. And even our association, the city-beautiful, of which I was president, helped to erect the thing. Of course I resigned at once. Naturally, sir. The colors are atrocious. And the words, a mere blatant boast. He groaned and left me. For we were now well into a suburb of detached villas, many of them of a squalid character, and presently we had halted at the station. About this bleak affair was the usual gathering of peasantry. And the common people, villagers, agricultural laborers, and the like, and these at once showed a tremendous interest in our party, many of them hailing various members of us, with a quite offensive familiarity. Bill Napjackson, of course, bore himself through this with a proper aloofness, as did his wife, and Mrs. Effie. But I heard the mixer booming salutations right and left. It was cousin Egbert, however, who most embarrassed me, by the freedom of his manner with these persons. He shook hands warmly with at least a dozen of them, and these hailed him with rude shouts, dealt him smart blows on the back, and forming a circle about him, escorted him to a carriage, where Mrs. Effie and I awaited him. Here the driver, a lautish and familiar youth, also seized his hand, and with some crude effect of oratory, shouted to the crowd, What's the matter with Sourdough? To this, with a flourish of their impossible hats, they quickly responded in unison. He's all right! Accenting the first word terrifically, then to the immense relief of Mrs. Effie and myself, he was released, and we were driven quickly off from the raffish set. Through their regent and bond streets we went, though I mean to say they were on an unbelievably small or village scale, to an outlying region of detached villas that doubtless would be there, St. John's would. But my efforts, to observe closely, were distracted by the extraordinary freedom with which our driver essayed to chat with us. Saying he, guest, we were glad to get back to God's country, and things of similar intimate nature. This was even more embarrassing to Mrs. Effie than it was to me, since she more than once felt obliged to answer the fellow with a feigned cordiality. Relieved I was when we drew up before the townhouse of the flouts. Set well back from the driveway in a faded stretch of common, it was of rather a garbled architecture, with the Tudor, late Gothic, and French Renaissance, so intermixed that one was puzzled to separate the periods. Nor was the result so vast as this might sound. Hardly with a thing have made a wing of the manor-house at Shane's Watten. The common, or small park before it, were shielded from the main third affair by offensive iron palings, and back of this on either side of a graveled walk that led to the main entrance were two life-sized stags. Not badly sculptured, from metal. Once inside I began to suspect that my position was going to be more than a bit dicky. I mean to say, it was not an establishment in our sense of the word, being staffed, apparently, by two China persons who performed the functions of cook, housemaids, footmen, butler, and housekeeper. It was not even a billiard room. During the ensuing hour, marked by the arrival of our luggage and the unpacking of boxes, I meditated profoundly over the difficulties of my situation. In a wilderness, beyond the confines of civilization, I would undoubtedly be compelled to endure the hardships of the pioneer. Yet for the present I resolved to let no inkling of my dismay escape. The evening meal over, dinner in but the barest technical sense, I sat alone in my own room, meditating thus darkly. Nor was I at all cheered by the voice of cousin Egbert, who sang, in his own room, adjoining. I had found this to be a habit of his, and his songs are always dolorous to the last degree. Now, for example, while life seemed all too black to me, he sang a favorite of his, the pathetic ballad of two small children evidently begging in a business thought affair. Lone and weary through the streets we wander, for we have no place to lay our head. Not a friend is left on earth to shelter us, for both our parents now are dead. It was a fair crumpler in my then mood. It made me wish to be out of North America, made me long for London, London with a yellow fog, and its greasy pavements. Where one knew what to apprehend? I wanted him to stop, but still he atrociously sang in his high cracked voice. Dear mother died when we were both young, and father built for us a home. But now he's killed by fallen timbers, and we are left here alone. I dare say I should have rushed madly into the night. Had there been another verse? But now he was still. A moment later, however, he entered my room with the suggestion that I stroll about the village streets with him, he having a mission to perform for Mrs. Effie. I had already heard her confide this to him. He was to proceed to the office of their newspaper, and their leave with the press-chap, a notice of our arrival, from which day to day she had been composing on the train. I just got to leave this here piece for the recorder. He said, then we can sashay up and down for a while and meet some of the boys. How profoundly may our whole destiny be affected by the mood of an idle moment, by some superficial indecision, mere fruit of a transient unrest? We lightly debate, we hesitate, we beyond, unconscious of the brink. We half-heartedly decline a suggested course, then lightly accept from sheer ennui, and life, as I have read in a quite meritorious poem, is never the same again. It was thus I now toyed there with my fate in my hands, as might a child have toyed with a bobble. I mean to say I was looking for nothing thick. She's wrote a very fancy piece for that newspaper, because an Egbert went on handing me the sheets of manuscript. I'dly I glanced down the pages. Yesterday saw the return to red-gap of Mrs. Senators James Knox Floud, and Egbert G. Floud, from their extensive European tour. It begun. Further I caught vagrant lines, salient phrases. The well-known social leader of our north-side set, planned in a series of entertainments for the approach and social season, that promised to eclipse all previous gayities of red-gap's smart set. Holding the reins of social leadership with a firm grasp, distinguished for her social graces intact as a hostess, their palatial home on Ophyr Avenue, the scene of so much of the smart social life that has distinguished our beautiful city. Which left me rather unmoved from my depression. Even the concluding note. The Flouds are accompanied by their English man-servant, secured through the kind offices of the brother of his lordship, Earl of Brinstead, the well-known English peer, who will no doubt do much to impart to the coming functions that air of smartness which distinguishes the highest social circles of London, Paris, and other capitals of the great world of fashion. Some mess of words that! observed cousin Egbert, and it did indeed seem to be rather intimately phrased. Better come along with me. He again urged there was a moment's fateful silence. Then, quite mechanically, I arose and prepared to accompany him. In the hall below I handed him his evening-stick and gloves, which he absently took from me, and we presently traversed that street of houses, much in the fashion of the Floud House, and nearly all boasting some sculptured bit of wildlife on their terraces. It was a calm night, of late summer, all nature seemed at peace. I looked aloft and reflected that the same stars were shining upon the civilization I had left so far behind. As we walked I lost myself in musing pensively upon this curious astronomical fact, and upon the further vicissitudes to which I would surely be exposed. I compared myself whimsically to an explorer chap who has ventured among a tribe of natives, and who must seem to adopt their weird manners and customs to save himself from their fanatic violence. From this I was aroused by cousin Egbert, who, with sudden dismay regarding his stick and gloves, uttered a low cry of anguish and thrust them into my hands before I had divined his purpose. You'll have to tote them their things. He swiftly explained, I forgot where I was. I demurred sharply, but he would not listen. I didn't mind it so much in Paris and Europe, where I ain't so very well known. But my good gosh, man, this is my hometown. You'll have to take them. People won't notice it in you so much, you be in a foreigner, anyway. Without further objection I wearily took them, finding a desperate drollery and being regarded as a forerner, whereas I was simply alone among forerners. But I knew that cousin Egbert lacked the subtlety to grasp this point of view, and made no effort to lay it before him. It was clear to me then I think that he would whatever remain socially impossible, though perhaps no bad sort from a mere human point of view. We continued our stroll, turning presently from this residential avenue to a street of small, unlighted shops, and from this into a wider and brilliantly lighted, third affair of larger shops, where my companion presently began to greet native acquaintances. And now once more he affected that fashion in presenting me to his friends that I had so deplored in Paris. His own greeting made, he would call out heartily, shake hands with my friend Colonel Ruggles! Nor would he heed my protests at this, so that in sheer desperation I presently ceased making them, reflecting that after all we were encountering the street classes of the town. At a score of such casual meetings I was thus presented, for he seemed to know quite almost everyone, and at times there would be a group of natives about us on the pavement. Twice we went into saloons, as they rather pretentiously styled their public houses, where Cousin Egbert would stand the drinks for all present, not omitting each time to present me formally to the barman. In all these instances I was at once asked what I thought of their town, which was at first rather embarrassing, as I was confident that any frank disclosure of my opinion, being necessarily, hurried, might easily be misunderstood. I at length devised a conventional formula of praise, which, although feeling a frightful fool, I delivered each time thereafter. Thus we progressed the length of their commercial centre, the incidents varying but little. Hello, sourdough, you old shell-back, when did you come off the trail? Just got in, my lands, but it's good to be back. Billy, shake hands with my friend Colonel Ruggles. I mean to say the persons were not all named Billy, that being used only by way of illustration, sometimes they would be called Doc, or Hank, or Al, or Chris, nor was my companion invariably called shell-back, horned toad, and stinging lizard were also epithets much in favour with his friends. At the end of this street we at length paused before the office, as I saw, of the Red Gap Recorder, daily and weekly. Cousin Egbert entered here, but came out almost at once. Hinshaw ain't there, and she said I got to be sure and give him this here piece personally. So come on, he's up to a lawn-feet. A social function, sir? I asked. No, just a lawn-feet, up in Judge Ballard's front yard, to raise money for new uniforms for the band. That's what the boy said in there. But would it not be highly improper for me to appear there, sir? I at once objected. I fear it's not done, sir. Shucks, he insisted. Don't talk foolish that way. You're a peach of a little mixer, all right? Come on, everybody goes. They'll even let me in. I can give this here piece to Hinshaw, and then we'll spend a little money to help the band boys along. My misgivings were by no means dispelled. Yet, as the affair seemed to be public rather than smart, I allowed myself to be led on. Into another street of residences we turned, and after a brisk walk I was able to identify the front yard of which my companion had spoken. The strings of an orchestra came to us, and from the trees and shrubbery gleamed the lights of paper lanterns. I could discern tents and marquees, a throng of people moving among them. Nearer I observed a refreshment pavilion and a dancing platform. Reaching the gate, Cousin Egbert paid for us an entrance fee of two shillings to a young lady in gypsy costume whom he greeted cordially as Beryl May, not omitting to present me to her as Colonel Ruggles. We moved into the thick of the crowd. There was much laughter and hearty speech, and it had once occurred to me that Cousin Egbert had been right. It would not be an assemblage of people that mattered, but rather of small tradesmen, artisans, tenant farmers, and the like with whom I could properly mingle. My companion was greeted by several of the throng to whom he in turn presented me, among them after a bit to a slight reddish-bearded person wearing thick nose-glasses whom I understood to be the pressman we were in search of, nervous of manner he was, and preoccupied with a notebook in which he frantically scribbled items from time to time. Yet no sooner was I presented to him than he began a quizzing sort of conversation with me that lasted near a half hour, I should say. Very interested he seemed to hear of my previous life, having in full measure that naive curiosity about one which Americans take so little pains to hide. Like the other natives I had met that evening he was especially concerned to know what I thought of Red Gap. The chat was not at all unpleasant as he seemed to be a well-informed person, and it was not without regret that I noted the approach of Cousin Egbert in company with a pleasant-faced, middle-aged lady in Oriental garb carrying a tambourine. Mrs. Ballard, allow me to make you acquainted with my friend Colonel Ruggles. Thus Cousin Egbert performed his ceremony, the lady grasped by hand with great cordiality. You men have monopolized the Colonel long enough. She began with a large coquetry that I found not unpleasing, and firmly grasping my arm she led me off in the direction of the refreshment pavilion, where I was playfully led to know that I should purchase her bits of refreshment, coffee, plum cake, and ice, things of that sort. Through it all she kept up a running fire of banter, from time to time presenting me to other women, young and old, who happened about us, all of whom betrayed an interest in my personality that was not unflattering, even from this commoner sort of the town's people. Nor would my new friend release me when she had refreshed herself, but had it that I must dance with her. I had now to confess that I was unskilled in the Native American folk dances which I had observed being performed, whereupon she briskly chided me for my backwardness, but commanded a vaults from the musicians and this we dance together. I may here say that I am not without a certain finesse on the dancing floor, and I rather enjoy the momentary abandon with this village worthy. Indeed I had rather enjoyed the whole affair, though I felt that my manner was gradually marking me out as one apart from the natives. Made conscious I was of a more finished, a suave formality in myself, the Mrs. Ballad I had met came at length to be by way of tapping me coquettishly with her tambourine in our lighter moments. Also my presence increasingly drew attention more and more of the village bells and matrons demanding in their hearty way to be presented to me. Indeed the society was vastly more enlivening, I reflected, than I had found it in a similar walk of life at home. Rather regretfully I left with cousin Egbert, who found me at last in one of the tents, having my palm read by the gypsy young person who had taken our fees at the gate. Of course I am aware that she was probably, without any real gifts for this science, as so few are, who undertake it at Charity Bazaars, yet she told me not a few things that were significant, that my somewhat cold exterior and air of sternness were but a mask to shield a too impulsive nature, that I possessed great firmness of character, and was fond of nature. She added peculiarly at the last, I see trouble ahead, but you are not to be downcast. The skies will brighten. It was at this point that cousin Egbert found me, and after he had warned the young woman that I was some mixer. We departed. Not until we had reached the flout home did he discover that he had quite forgotten to hand the press-chap Mrs. Effie's manuscript. Dog on the luck! said he in his quaint tone of exasperation. Here I have went and forgot to give Mrs. Effie's piece to the editor. He sighed ruefully. Oh, well, tomorrow is another day. And so the die was cast. Tomorrow was indeed another day. Yet I fell asleep on a memory of the evening that brought me a sort of shame to pleasure, that I had falsely borne the stick and gloves of cousin Egbert. I knew they had given me rather an air. End of Chapter 7 CHAPTER 8 I have never been able to recall the precise moment the next morning when I began to feel a strange disquietude, but the opening hours of the day were marked by a series of occurrences, slight in themselves, yet so cumulatively ominous that they seemed to lower above me like a cloud of menace. Looking from my window, shortly after the rising hour, I observed a paper boy pass through the street whistling a popular melody as he ran up to toss folded journals into doorways. Something I cannot explain went through me even then. Some premonition of disaster, slinking furtively under my casual reflection that even in this remote wild the public press was not unknown. Half an hour later the telephone rang in a lower room and I heard Mrs. Effie speak in answer. An unusual note in her voice caused me to listen more attentively. I stepped outside my door. To someone she was expressing amazement, doubt, and quick impatience, which seemed to culminate, after she had again listened, in a piercing cry of consternation. The term is not too strong. Evidently by the unknown speaker, she had been first puzzled, then startled, then horrified. And now, as her anguished cry still rang in my ears, that snaky premonition of evil again writhed across my consciousness. Presently I heard the front door open and close. Peering into the hallway below, I saw that she had secured the newspaper I had seen dropped. Her own door now closed upon her. I waited, listening intently. Something told me that the incident was not closed. A brief interval elapsed and she was again at the telephone, excitedly demanding to be put through to a number. Come at once. I heard her cry. It's unspeakable. There isn't a moment to lose. Come as you are. Hereupon, banging the receiver into its place with frenzied roughness, she ran halfway up the stairs to shout. Egbert! Egbert, flood! You march right down here this minute, sir. From his room I heard an alarmed response, and a moment later knew that he had joined her. The door closed upon them, but high words reached me. Mostly the words of Mrs. Effie they were, though I could detect muffled retorts from the other. Wondering what this could portend, I noted from my window some ten minutes later the hurried arrival of the sea bellnaped Jackson's. The husband clenched a crumpled newspaper in one hand, and both he and his wife betrayed signs to the trained eye of having performed hasty toilets for this early call. As the door of the drawing-room closed upon them, there ensued a terrific outburst, carrying a rich general effect of astounded rage. Some moments the sinister chorus continued, then a door sharply opened, and I heard my own name cried out by Mrs. Effie in a tone that caused me to shudder. Rapidly descending the stairs I entered the room to face the excited group. Cousin Egbert crouched on a sofa in a far corner like a hunted beast, but the others were standing and all glared at me furiously. The ladies addressed me simultaneously, one of them I believe, asking me what I meant by it, and the other demanding how dare I, which had the sole effect of adding to my bewilderment, nor did the words of Cousin Egbert diminish this. Hello, bail! he called, adding with a sort of timid bravado. Don't let him bluff you, not for a minute. Yes, and it was probably all that Richard Cousin Egbert's in the first place. Snapped Mrs. Belknap Jackson almost tearfully. Say, listen here now, I don't see as how I've done anything wrong. He feebly protested. Bill's human, ain't he? Answer me that. One sees it all. This room Belknap Jackson in bitter and judicial tones. He frung out his hands at Cousin Egbert in a gesture of pitiless scorn. I dare say, he continued, that poor Ruggles was merely a tool in his hands, weak possibly but not vicious. May I inquire? I made bold to begin, but Mrs. Effie shut me off, brandishing the newspaper before me. Read it! she commanded in hoarse, tragic tones. There! she added, pointing at monstrous black headlines on the page as I weakly took it from her. And then I saw, there before them, divining how the enormity of what had come to pass, I controlled myself to master the following screed. Red gaps distinguished visitor. Colonel Marmaduke Ruggles of London and Paris, late of the British Army, Bon Vivant and Man of the World, is in our midst for an indefinite stay, being at present the honoured house guest of Senator and Mrs. James Knox Flaude, who returned from foreign parts on the 516 flyer yesterday afternoon. Colonel Ruggles has long been intimately associated with the family of his lordship, the Earl of Brinstead, and especially with his lordship's brother, the honourable George Augustus, Vane Basingwell, with whom he has recently been sojourning in Label, France. In a brief interview, which the Colonel genially accorded Yscribe, he expressed himself as delighted with our thriving little city. It's somewhat of a town, if I've caught your American slang, he said, with a merry twinkle in his eyes. You have the garden spot of the west, if not of the civilized world, and your people display a charm that must be, I daresay, typically American. All together I am enchanted with the wonders I have beheld since landing at your New York, particularly with the habit your best people have of roughing it in camps, like that of Mr. C. Belknap Jackson, among the mountains of New York, where I was most pleasantly entertained by himself and his delightful wife. The length of my stay among you is uncertain, though I have been pressed by the flouts, with whom I am stopping, and by the C. Belknap Jackson's, to prolong it indefinitely, and in fact to identify myself to an extent with your social life. The Colonel is a man of distinguished appearance, with the seasoned bearing of an old campaigner, and though at moments he displays that cool reserve so typical of the English gentleman, evidence was not lacking last evening that he can unbend on occasion. At the Lawn Fet, held in the spacious grounds of Judge Ballard, where a myriad Japanese lanterns made the scene a veritable fairyland, he was quite the most sought after notable present, and gaily tripped the light fantastic toe, with the elite of Red Gap's smart set there assembled. From his cordial manner of entering into the spirit of the affair, we predict that Colonel Ruggles will be a decided acquisition to our social life, and we understand that a series of rushersh entertainments in his honor has already been planned by Mrs. County Judge Ballard, who took the distinguished guest under her wing the moment he appeared last evening. Welcome to our city, Colonel, and may the warm hearts of Red Gap cause you to forget that European world of fashion, of which you have long been so distinguished in ornament. In a sickening silence I finished the thing, as the absurd sheet fell from my nerveless fingers, Mrs. Effie cried in a voice hoarse with emotion. Do you realize the dreadful thing you've done to us? Speechless I was, with humiliation, unequal even to protesting that I had said nothing of the sort to the press chap. I mean to say, he had wretchedly twisted my harmless words. Have you nothing to say for yourself? Demanded Mrs. Belnap Jackson, also in a voice hoarse with emotion, I glanced at her husband. He, too, was pale with anger and trembling, so that I fancied he dared not trust himself to speak. The wretched man, declared Mrs. Effie, addressing them all, simply can't realize how disgraceful it is. Oh, we shall never be able to live it down. Imagine those flippant, spokane sheets dressing up the thing, hissed Belnap Jackson, speaking for the first time. Imagine their black, godly humor, and that awful cousin Egbert, broken Mrs. Effie, pointing a desperate finger toward him. Think of the laugh and stalk he'll become, while he'll simply never be able to hold up his head again. Say, you listen here, exclaimed cousin Egbert, with sudden heat. Never you mind about my head, I always been able to hold up my head any time I felt like it. And again to me he threw out, Don't you let him bluff you, Bill. I gave him a notice for the paper, explained Mrs. Effie plaintively. I'd written it all nicely out to save them time in the office, and that would have prevented this disgrace, but he never gave it in. I clean forgot it, declared the offender, what with one thing and another, and gasping back and forth with some of the boys that kind of went out of my head. Meeting our best people, actually dancing with them, murmured Mrs. Belnap Jackson in a voice vibrant with horror. My dear, I truly am so sorry for you. You, you people, entertained him delightfully at your camp. Remembered Mrs. Effie quickly in her turn, with a gesture toward the journal. Oh, we're both in and I know, I know, it's appalling. We'll never be able to live it down, said Mrs. Effie. We shall have to go away somewhere. Can't you imagine what Jan Ballard will say when she learns the truth? Asked the other bitterly. Say we did it on purpose to humiliate her, and just as all our little scrapsprues were being smoothed out, so we could get together and put that Bohemian set in its place. Oh, it's so dreadful. On the verge of tears, she seemed. And scarcely a word mentioned of our own return, when I'd taken such pains with the notice. Listen here, said Cousin Egbert, brightly. I'll take the piece down now, and he can print it in his paper for you tomorrow. You can't understand, she replied impatiently. I casually mentioned I haven't brought an English man-servant. Print that now, and insult all our best people who received him. Pathetic how little the poor chap understands, sighed Bill Napjaxon. No sense at all of our plight, naturally. A series of entertainments being planned in his honor. Quavered Mrs. Bill Napjaxon. The most sought after notable present. Echoed Mrs. Effie viciously. Again and again I had essay to protest my innocence, only to provoke renewed outbursts. I could but stand there with what dignity I retained, and let them savage me. Cousin Egbert now spoke again. Shucks, what's all the fuss? Just because I took Bill out and give him a good time? Didn't you say yourself, and that they're very peace? That he'd impart to coming functions an air of smartiness, like they have all over Europe? Didn't you write them very words? And ain't he already done it the very first night he gets here, right at that there lawn-feet where I took him? What for do you jump on me then? I took him and he done it. He done it good. Bill's a born mixer. Why, he had all them Northside Society dames stung the minute I flashed him. After him quicker than hell could scorch a feather. Run out from under their hats to get introduced to him. And now you all turn on me like a parcel of starved wolves. He finished with a note of genuine irritation I had never heard in his voice. The poor creature's demented, remarked Mrs. Belnapchokson piteingly. Always been that way, said Mrs. Effie hopelessly. Belnapchokson contented himself with a mere clicking sound of commiseration. All right then, if you're so smart, continued cousin Egbert, just the same. Bill here is the most popular thing in the whole Kool-Anch valley this minute. So all I got to say is if you want to play this here society game, you better stick close by him. First thing you know, some of them other dames will have him wand from you. That Miss Ballard's going to invite him to supper, or dinner, or some other doings, right away. I heard her say so. To my amazement, a curious and prolonged silence greeted this amazing charade. The three, at length, were regarding each other almost furtively. Belnapchokson began to pace the floor in deep thought. After all, no one knows except ourselves. He said in curiously hushed tones at last. Of course, it's one way out of a dreadful mess, observed his wife. Colonel Marmaduke Ruggles of the British army? Said Mrs. Effie in a peculiar tone, as if she were trying over a song. It may indeed be the best way out of an impossible situation, continued Belnapchokson musingly. Otherwise we face a social upheaval that might leave us demoralized for years. Say nothing of making us a laughing stock with the rabble. In fact, I see nothing else to be done. Cousin Egbert would be sure to spoil it all again, objected Mrs. Effie glaring at him. No danger. Returned the other with his superior smile. Being quite unable to realize what has happened, he will be equally unable to realize what is going to happen. We may speak before him, as before a babe in arms. The amenities of the situation are forever beyond him. I guess I was being able to hold up my head when I felt like it. Put in Cousin Egbert, now again both sullen and puzzled. Once more he threw out his encouragement to me. Don't let him run any bluffs, Bill. They can't touch you and they know it. Touch him? murmured Mrs. Belnapchokson with an able sneer. My dear, what a trial he must have been to you. I never knew. He's as bad as the Mater, actually. And such hopes I had of him in Paris, replied Mrs. Effie, when he was taking up art and dressing for dinner and everything. I can be pushed just so far, muttered the offender darkly. There was now a ring at the door which I took the liberty of answering and received two notes from a messenger. One bore the address of Mrs. Flood, and the other was quite astonishingly to myself. The name preceded by Colonel. That's Jim Ballard, stationery! cried Mrs. Belnapchokson. Trust her, not to lose one second and getting busy. But he mustn't answer the door that way, exclaimed her husband as I handed Mrs. Effie her note. They were indeed both from my acquaintance of the night before. Receiving permission to read my own, I found it to be a dinner invitation for the following Friday. Mrs. Effie looked up from hers. It's all too true, she announced grimly. We're asked to dinner, and she earnestly hopes dear Colonel Ruggles will have made no other engagement. She also says, hasn't he the darlingest English accent? Oh, isn't it a mess? You see, how right I am, said Belnapchokson. I guess we've got to go through with it, conceded Mrs. Effie. The pushing thing that Ballard woman is, observed her friend. Ruggles exclaimed Belnapchokson, addressing me with sudden decision. Yes, sir. Listen carefully. I'm quite serious. In future you will try to address me as if I were your equal. Ah, rather you will try to address me as if you were my. I dare say it will come to you easily after a bit of practice. Your employers will wish you to address them in the same manner. You will cultivate towards us a manner of easy friendliness. Remember, I'm entirely serious, quite as if you were one of us. You must try to be, in short, the Colonel Marmaduke Ruggles, that wretched penny-liner, has hoisted upon these innocent people. We shall thus avert a most humiliating contra-tum. The thing fair staggered me. I fell weakly into the chair by which I had stood, for the first time in a not uneventful career feeling that my Savoie fair had been overtaxed. Quite right, he went on, be seated as one of us. And he amazingly proffered me his cigarette case. Do take one, old chap. He insisted, as I weakly waved it away, and against my will I did so. Dare say you'll fancy them. A non-throat cigarette, especially prescribed for me. He now held a match, so that I was obliged to smoke. Never have I been in less humor for it. There, not so hard, is it? You see, we're getting on, famously. Ain't I always said Bill was a good mixer, called Cousin Egbert, but his Gauchari was pointedly ignored. Now, continued Belnap Jackson, suppose you tell us, in a chatty, friendly way, just what you think about this regrettable affair. All sat forward, interestingly. But I meant what I supposed were your villagers. I said, your small tradesmen, your artisans, clerks, shop assistants, tenant farmers, and the like. I'd no idea in the world they were your county families. It seemed quite a bit too jolly for that. And your press chap, preposterous, quite. He quizzed me, rather, I admit, but he made it vastly different. Your pressmen are remarkable. That thing is a fair crumpler. But surely, put in Mrs. Effie, you could see that Mrs. Judge Ballard must be one of our best people. I saw she was a goodish sort, I explained. But it never occurred to me one would meet her in your best houses. And when she spoke of entertaining me, I fancied I might stroll by her cottage some fair day and be asked into a slice from one of her own loaves and a dish of tea. There was that about her. Mercy! exclaimed both ladies. Mrs. Belknobchakson, adding a bit maliciously, I thought. Oh, don't you awfully wish she could hear him say it just that way! As to the title? I continued. Mr. Egbert has from the first had a curious American tendency to present me to his many friends as Colonel. I am sure he means as little by it as when he calls me Bill. Which I have often reminded him is not a name of mine. Oh, we understand the poor chap is a social incompetent. Said Belknobchakson with a despairing shrug. Say, look here! Suddenly exclaimed cousin Egbert, a new heat in his tone. What I call Bill ain't a marker to what I call you when I really get going. You ought to hear me some day when I'm feeling right. Really? exclaimed the other with elaborate sarcasm. Yes, sir, sure is thing you know. I could call you a lot of good things right now if so many ladies wasn't around. You don't think I'd be afraid, do you? Why, Bill, there had you licked with one wallop. But really, really, protested the other with a helpless shrug to the ladies who were gasping with dismay. You ruffian! cried his wife. Egbert flowed, said Mrs. Effie fiercely. You will apologize to Charles before you leave this room. The idea of forgetting yourself that way. Apologize at once! No, very well, he grumbled. I apologize like I'm mean too. But he added quickly with even more irritation. Only don't you get the idea, it's because I'm afraid of you. Tush, tush, said Belknap Jackson. No, sir, I apologize, but it ain't for one minute because I'm afraid of you. Your bare apology is ample. I'm bound to accept it, replied the other. A bit uneasily, I thought. Come right down to it, continued cousin Egbert. I ain't afraid of hardly any person. I can be pushed just so far. Here he looked significantly at Mrs. Effie. After all I've tried to do for him. She moaned. I thought he had something in him. Darn it all, I like to be friendly with my friends. He plungely persisted. I call a man anything that suits me, and I ain't ever apologized yet because I was afraid. I want all parties here to get that. Say no more, please. It's quite understood, said Belknap Jackson hastily. The other subsided into low mutterings. I trust you fully understand the situation, Ruggles. Colonel Ruggles. He continued, to me. It's preposterous, but plain as a pillar-box. I answered. I could only regret it as keenly as any right-minded person should. It's not at all what I've been accustomed to. Farewell. Then I suggest that you accompany me for a drive this afternoon. I'll call for you with the trap, say at three. Perhaps, suggested his wife, it might be as well if Colonel Ruggles were to come to us as a guest. She was regarding me with a gaze that was frankly speculative. Oh, not at all. Not at all, retorted Mrs. Effie crisply, having been announced as our house guest, never in the world for him to go to you so soon. Must be careful in this. Later, perhaps, my dear. Briefly the ladies measured each other with a glance. Could it be, I asked myself, that they were spotting for the possession of me? Naturally, he would be asked about everywhere, and there'll be loads of entertaining to do in return. Of course, returned Mrs. Effie, and I never think of putting her off onto you, dear, when we're wholly to blame for the awful thing. That's so thoughtful of you, dear, replied her friend coldly. Not three, then, said Belknap Jackson as we arose. I shall be delighted, I murmured. I bet you won't, said Cousin Egbert, sourly. He wants to show you off. This I could see was ignored as a sheer indecency. We shall have to get a reception in quick, said Mrs. Effie, her eyes narrowed in calculation. I don't see what all the fuss was about, remarked Cousin Egbert again, as if to himself, tear me to pieces like a parcel of wolves. The Belknap Jackson's left hastily, not deigning him a glance, and to do the poor soul justice, I believe he did not at all know what the fuss had been about. The niceties of the situation were beyond him, dear old sort, though he had shown himself to be. I knew, then, I was never again to be harsh with him. Let him dress as he would. Say, he asked the moment we were alone. You remember that thing you called him back there that night? Blighted little mug, was it? It's best forgotten, sir, I said. Well, sir, some way it sounded. Just the thing to call him. It sounded bully. What does it mean? So far was his darkened mind from comprehending that I, in a foreign land, among a weird people, must now have a go at being a gentleman, and that if I fluffed my catch, we should all be gossiped to rags. Alone in my room I made a hasty inventory of my wardrobe, thanks to the circumstances that the honourable George, despite my warning, had for several years refused to bant. It was rather well stocked. The evening-clothes were irreproachable. So were the frock-coat, and a morning-suit. Of waist-coats there were a number showing but slight wear. The three lounge-suits of tweed, though slightly demoted, would still be vogue in this remote spot. For sticks, gloves, cravats, and body linen I saw that I should be compelled to levy on the store I had laid in for cousin Egbert, and I happily discovered that his top hat set me quite effectively. Also, in a cask of trifles that had knocked about in my box, I had the good fortune to find the monocle, that the honourable George had discarded some years before, on the ground that it was Ballydonsons. I screwed the glass into my eye. The effect was tremendous. Rather a lock I might have thought it. But for the false military title, that was rank deception, and I have always regarded any sort of wrongdoing as detestable. Perhaps if he had introduced me as a mere subaltern in a line regiment. But I was powerless. For the afternoon's drive I chose the smartest of the lounge-suits, a Carl's bad hat, which cousin Egbert had bitterly resented for himself, and for top coat a lightweight, straight-hanging chest of yield with velvet collar, which, although the cut studiously avoids a fitted effect, is yet a garment that intrigues the eye when carried with any distinction. So many top coats are but mere wrappings. I had two gloves of a delicately contrasting tint. Altogether I felt I had turned myself out well, and this I found to be the verdict of Mrs. Effie, who engaged me in the hall to say that I was to have anything in the way of equipment I like to ask for. Belknap Jackson, also, arriving now in a smart trap, to which he drove two cobs tandem, was at once impressed, and made me compliments upon my ten-way. I was aware that I appeared not badly beside him. I mean to say, I felt that I was vogue in the finest sense of the word. Mrs. Effie waved us a farewell from the doorway, and I was conscious that from several houses on either side of the avenue we attracted more than a bit of attention. There were doors opened, blinds pushed aside, faces—that sort of thing. At a leisurely pace we progressed through the main third affairs, that we created a sensation, especially along the commercial streets, where my host halted at shops to order goods, cannot be denied. Furrari is perhaps the word. I mean to say, almost quite everyone stared, rather more like a parade it was than I could have wished, but I was again resolved to be a dead sportsman. Among those who saluted us from time to time were several of the lesser townsmen to whom Cousin Egbert had presented me the evening before, and I now perceived that most of these were truly persons I must not know in my present station— hard men, road-menders, grooms, delivery-chaps—that sort. In responding to the often floored salutations of such, I instilled into my barely perceptible nod a certain frigidity that I trusted might be informing. I mean to say, having now a position to keep up, it would never do at all to chatter and pal about loosely, as Cousin Egbert did. When we had done a ferish number of streets, both of shops and villas, we drove out a winding roadway along a tarn to the country club. The house was an unpretentious structure of native wood, fronting a couple of tennis courts and a golf-links. But although it was tea-time, not a soul was present. Having unlocked the door, my host suggested refreshment, and I consented to partake of a glass of sherry and a biscuit. But these it seemed were not to be had. So, over pegs of ginger ale, found in an ice-chest, we sat for a time and chatted. You will find us crude, a-ruggles, as I warned you. My host observed. Take this deserted club-house at this hour. It tells the story. Take again the matter of sherry and a biscuit. So simple, yet no one ever thinks of them. And what you mean by a biscuit is in this wretched hole, spoken of as a cracker. I thanked him for the item, resolving to add it to my list of curious Americanisms. Already I had begun a narrative of my adventures in this wildland, a thing I had tentatively entitled, Alone in North America. Though we have people in abundance of ample means, he went on, you will regret to know that we have not achieved a leisured class. Barely once in a fortnight will you see this club patronized. After all the pains I took in its organization, they simply haven't evolved to the idea yet. Sometimes I have moments in which I despair of their ever doing so. As usual he grew depressed when speaking of social red gap, so that we did not tarry along in the silent place that should have been quite alive with people smartly having their tea. As we drove back he touched briefly and with all delicacy on our changed relations. What made me only too glad to consent to it, he said, is the sodden depravity of that flout chap. Really, he is a menace to the community. I saw from the degenerate leer in his face this morning that he will not be able to keep silent about that little affair of ours back there. Mark my words, he'll talk, and fancy, how embarrassing! Had you continued in the office for which you were engaged, fancy it being known I had been assaulted by a— You see what I mean. But now let him talk his vilest. What is it, a mere disagreement between two gentlemen? Generous, hot-tempered chaps, followed by mutual apologies, a mere nothing. I was conscious of more than a little irritation at his manner of speaking of cousin Egbert. But this in my new character I could hardly betray. When he set me down at the flout-house, thanks for the breeze out, I said, then with an easy wave of the hand and in firm tones. Good day, Jackson! See you again, old chap! I had nerv'd myself to it as to an icy tub, and was rewarded by a glow, such as had suffused me that morning in Paris after the shameful proceedings with cousin Egbert and the Indian Tuttle. I mean to say, I felt again that wonderful thrill of equality, quite as if my superiors were not all about me. Inside the house Mrs. Effie addressed the last of a heap of invitations for an early reception. To meet Colonel Marmaduke Ruggles, they read.