oung man? Surely I have no
proprietary rights over any man, save one very nice old fellow, who is
so loyal to his sovereign that he never thinks of complaining of the
injustice of taxation without representation."

"You reverse the ordinary process with me; subjects have been wont to
blow up their sovereigns," answered her father, with a chuckle, "and you
blow up me. You have not told me about Lord Brompton. It is a long time
since you have seen him before to-day."

"Two whole years. He seems so dispirited."

"At not having escaped you?"

"Oh, you wicked old capitalist; not at all. At having been so long
separated from me. It was very pleasant to see him again. He is such a
friend of mine. I should say that he interested me more than any of the
others."

"Ah, that unfortunate panorama of others," laughed her father.

"Yes, poor fellows," said Maggie, a little regretfully, "but then I
think that most of them had an eye to the main chance, papa. Lord
Brompton has not, I know."

Mr. Windsor smiled.

"I hope not, my dear. What is he doing here?"

"What the world has forgotten to do; what he can do more graciously than
any man I know--nothing," she answered.

"I should think that a young man with the world before him might find
something better to do than to mope in a porter's lodge, looking
mournfully at the lands which were his father's. What does he intend to
do in the world?"

"Oh, he said nothing of his plan of life," said Miss Windsor; "but he
seemed blue and restless. I think that there is something on his mind."

"These aristocrats, fallen from their high estate, are really in a
pitiable condition," said Windsor. "I feel like a cad to have made the
arrangement which I have with Jawkins. I wish that I were scot free from
the whole business. Poor people, how they must hate me in advance, and
what a vulgarian they must think me to be."

"Jawkins says that it is a recognized system, papa, you remember,"
answered Maggie. "After all, if you wish a great tenor or a
violin-player at your parties, you pay them for it. If you wish a duke
to awe or a beauty to charm your guests, why should you not hire them?
This is a commercial age. The poor people must live, and if they can
only awe or charm, there is no harm in their receiving pay for their
sole merits."

"You should have been bred to the bar, Maggie," laughed her father. "You
are an eloquent advocate."

There was a rattling of wheels up the driveway, and