tocratic mind. Those of
us who are not Primrose Knights miss even this poor glimpse into the
world above us. We know nothing, simply nothing, concerning the deeper
feelings of the upper ten. Personally, I once received a letter from an
Earl, but that was in connection with a dairy company of which his
lordship was chairman, and spoke only of his lordship's views concerning
milk and the advantages of the cash system. Of what I really wished to
know--his lordship's passions, yearnings and general attitude to life--the
circular said nothing.

Year by year I find myself more and more in a minority. One by one my
literary friends enter into this charmed aristocratic circle; after which
one hears no more from them regarding the middle-classes. At once they
set to work to describe the mental sufferings of Grooms of the
Bed-chamber, the hidden emotions of Ladies in their own right, the
religious doubts of Marquises. I want to know how they do it--"how the
devil they get there." They refuse to tell me.

Meanwhile, I see nothing before me but the workhouse. Year by year the
public grows more impatient of literature dealing merely with the middle-
classes. I know nothing about any other class. What am I to do?

Commonplace people--friends of mine without conscience, counsel me in
flippant phrase to "have a shot at it."

"I expect, old fellow, you know just as much about it as these other
Johnnies do." (I am not defending their conversation either as regards
style or matter: I am merely quoting.) "And even if you don't, what does
it matter? The average reader knows less. How is he to find you out?"

But, as I explain to them, it is the law of literature never to write
except about what you really know. I want to mix with the aristocracy,
study them, understand them; so that I may earn my living in the only way
a literary man nowadays can earn his living, namely, by writing about the
upper circles.

I want to know how to get there.

CHAPTER IV

Man and his Master.

There is one thing that the Anglo-Saxon does better than the "French, or
Turk, or Rooshian," to which add the German or the Belgian. When the
Anglo-Saxon appoints an official, he appoints a servant: when the others
put a man in uniform, they add to their long list of masters. If among
your acquaintances you can discover an American, or Englishman,
unfamiliar with the continental official, it is worth your while to
accompany him, the