n at last Jules Thessaly actually arrived, Lower Charleswood
experienced a grievous disappointment. He brought no "introductions," he
paid no courtesy calls, and those who sought him at Babylon Hall almost
invariably were informed that Mr. Thessaly was abroad. When he
entertained, his guests arrived from whence no one knew, but usually in
opulent cars, and thereby departed no one knew whither. Lower
Charleswood was patient, for great men are eccentric; but in time Lower
Charleswood to its intense astonishment and mortification realised that
Jules Thessaly was not interested in "the county." Lower Charleswood
beheld itself snubbed, but preferred to hide its wounds from the world,
and therefore sent Jules Thessaly ceremoniously to Coventry. He was
voted a vulgar plutocrat and utterly impossible. When it leaked out that
Lady James knew him well and that Sir Jacques frequently dined at
Babylon Hall, Miss Kingsbury said, "Lady _James_? Well, of course"--And
Sir Jacques, as the only eligible substitute for a real notability, was
permitted a certain license. He was "peculiar," no doubt, but he had
built a charming church and was a bachelor.

Urged to the task by Miss Kingsbury, the Vicar of High Fielding made
further and exhaustive enquiries. He discovered that it was impossible
to trace Jules Thessaly's year at Oxford for the same reason that it was
impossible to trace anything else in his history. One man knew another
man whose brother was at Oriel with Thessaly; a second man had heard of
a third man who distinctly remembered him at Magdalen. The vicar's
cousin, a stockbroker, said that Thessaly's father had been a Greek
adventurer. Miss Kingsbury's agent--who sometimes succeeded in disposing
of her pictures--assured Miss Kingsbury that Jules Thessaly was a Jew.
When war began all the county whispered that Jules Thessaly was a big
shareholder in Krupps.

The constitution of his establishment at Babylon Hall was attacked in
the local press. Babylon Hall was full of dangerous aliens. Strains of
music had been heard proceeding from the Hall at most unseemly hours--by
the village innkeeper. Orgies were held there. But Jules Thessaly
remained silent, unmoved, invisible. So that at the time of Sir Jacques'
death Lower Charleswood had passed through three phases: pique, wonder,
apathy. One or two folks had met Thessaly--but always by accident; had
acclaimed him a wonderful man possessing the reserve of true genius.
Finally, Miss K