d very much. I'm the son of a
colonist--the Herons are an old colonial family--and you can't think,
you people always in England, how romantic and enthusiastic we get about
England, we silly colonists, with our old-fashioned ways. When I got
that confounded appointment--it was given in return for some old
services of my father's--I believe I thought I was going to be another
sort of Raleigh, or something of the kind."

"Just so; and of course you were ready to tumble into any sort of
scrape. You are hauled over the coals--snubbed for your pains?"

"Yes--I was snubbed."

"Of course: they'll soon work the enthusiasm out of you. But that's a
couple of years ago--and you weren't recalled?"

"No. I wasn't recalled."

"Well, what's your grievance then?"

"Why--don't you see?--my time is out--and they've dropped me down. My
whole career is closed--I'm quietly thrown over--and I'm only
twenty-nine!" The young man caught at his moustache with nervous hands
and kicked with one foot against the rails of the balcony. He gazed into
the street, and his eyes sparkled and twinkled as if there were tears in
them. Perhaps there were, for Mr. Heron was evidently a young man of
quicker emotions than young men generally show in our days. He made
haste to say something, apparently as if to escape from himself.

"I am leaving Paris in the morning."

"Then why don't you go to bed and have a sleep?"

"Well, I don't feel like sleeping just yet."

"You young fellows never know the blessing of sleep. I can sleep
whenever I want to--it's a great thing. I make it a rule though to do
all my sleeping at night, whenever I can. You leave Paris in the
morning? Now that's a thing I don't like to do. Paris should never be
seen early in the morning. London shows to the best advantage early; but
Paris--no!"

"Why not?" Mr. Heron asked, stimulated to a little curiosity.

"Paris is a beauty, you know, a little on the wane, and wanting to be
elaborately made up and curled and powdered and painted, and all that.
She's a little of a slattern underneath the surface, you know, and
doesn't bear to be taken unawares--mustn't be seen for at least an hour
or two after she has got out of bed. All the more like Balzac's women."

Perhaps the elder man had observed Mr. Heron's sensitiveness more
closely and clearly than Heron fancied, and was talking on only to give
him time to recover his composure. Certainly he talked much more volubly
and continuously th