ughtily aloof, was he impressive. Nature, fashioning him, had
fashioned also a pedestal for him to stand and brood on, to pose and
sing on. Off that pedestal he was lost.... "The idol has come sliding
down from its pedestal"--the Duke remembered these words spoken
yesterday by Zuleika. Yes, at the moment when he slid down, he, too, was
lost. For him, master-dandy, the common arena was no place. What had he
to do with love? He was an utter fool at it. Byron had at least had some
fun out of it. What fun had HE had? Last night, he had forgotten to kiss
Zuleika when he held her by the wrists. To-day it had been as much as he
could do to let poor little Katie kiss his hand. Better be vulgar
with Byron than a noodle with Dorset! he bitterly reflected... Still,
noodledom was nearer than vulgarity to dandyism. It was a less flagrant
lapse. And he had over Byron this further advantage: his noodledom was
not a matter of common knowledge; whereas Byron's vulgarity had ever
needed to be in the glare of the footlights of Europe. The world
would say of him that he laid down his life for a woman. Deplorable
somersault? But nothing evident save this in his whole life was
faulty... The one other thing that might be carped at--the partisan
speech he made in the Lords--had exquisitely justified itself by its
result. For it was as a Knight of the Garter that he had set the perfect
seal on his dandyism. Yes, he reflected, it was on the day when first
he donned the most grandiose of all costumes, and wore it grandlier
than ever yet in history had it been worn, than ever would it be worn
hereafter, flaunting the robes with a grace unparalleled and inimitable,
and lending, as it were, to the very insignia a glory beyond their own,
that he once and for all fulfilled himself, doer of that which he had
been sent into the world to do.

And there floated into his mind a desire, vague at first, soon definite,
imperious, irresistible, to see himself once more, before he died,
indued in the fulness of his glory and his might.

Nothing hindered. There was yet a whole hour before he need start for
the river. His eyes dilated, somewhat as might those of a child about to
"dress up" for a charade; and already, in his impatience, he had undone
his neck-tie.

One after another, he unlocked and threw open the black tin boxes,
snatching out greedily their great good splendours of crimson and white
and royal blue and gold. You wonder he was not appalled by th