particularly anxious to discover."

He slowed down, tooting his horn vigorously as they rounded an awkward
corner. When they were again on the level she reminded him: "You were
saying that you were anxious to discover----"

"Oh, that man of mine! There isn't much to tell! He looked after me
while I was up at the 'Varsity; when I left, I carried him off. I was
always wandering, so I made him my body-servant. When we were leading
civilized lives in cities he acted as my valet-butler-secretary. When we
were adventuring in the remoter parts of the world, he was my
companion-friend. I had a real affection for the chap; he was so
genuinely distinguished and quick to learn. He'd have gone far if things
had kept on. As it is, he's probably gone farther."

"Gone farther?" She sounded half-asleep--politely lackadaisical.

"Gone West," he explained shortly. "His letters became fewer. We joined
up together in the ranks. You know all about my end of it. I suppose it
was my mother's democratic Americanism that made me do that. We got
drafted into different regiments. After the fighting had been going for
a year, he stopped corresponding. The funny thing was that none of my
letters to him was returned."

She was so bored that she was scarcely listening. He cut the matter
short by adding, "It was your mention of General Braithwaite that
started me gossiping."

She pulled herself together with a jerk and instantly became all
attention. "How? How could my mentioning General Braithwaite do that?"

He noticed again her unreasonable suspicion of hostility each time he
made a reference to this man. Thinking it the wiser policy to overlook
it, he answered evenly, "Because his name also happened to be
Braithwaite."

Fully fifteen minutes elapsed. "She's quite fed up with my valet," he
told himself. He hadn't been able to contrive any fresh topic which was
sufficiently innocuous, so he'd been keeping silent. They were again
passing over the bridge beneath which, like a gleaming sword, lay the
Thames, barriered on either bank by the little bow-windowed houses, with
their shining brasses and whitened steps. They were already catching up
with the throng of London traffic when she shook herself out of her
self-absorption by saying, "There must be thousands of Braithwaites in
the world."

He glanced at her out of the corners of his eyes. Her latest
conversational effort tickled his sense of humor--it was so wholly
inadequate. He laughed o