of several
million people who had never heard of Lady Marchpane. In one corner of
the room an Ambassador, with a few ribbons across his chest, could have
been seen chatting to the latest American Duchess; in another corner one
of our largest Advertisers was exchanging epigrams with a titled
Newspaper Proprietor. Famous Generals rubbed shoulders with
Post-Impressionist Artists; Financiers whispered sweet nothings to
Breeders of prize Poms; even an Actor-Manager might have been seen
accepting an apology from a Royalty who had jostled him.

"Hallo," said Algy Lascelles, catching sight of the dignified figure of
Rupert Meryton in the crowd; "how's William?"

A rare smile lit up Rupert's distinguished features. He was Under
Secretary for Invasion Affairs, and "William" was Algy's pleasant way of
referring to the Bill which he was now piloting through the House of
Commons. It was a measure for doing something or other by means of a
what-d'you-call-it--I cannot be more precise without precipitating a
European Conflict.

"I think we shall get it through," said Rupert calmly.

"Lady Marchpane was talking about it just now. She's rather interested,
you know."

Rupert's lips closed about his mouth in a firm line. He looked over
Algy's head into the crowd. "Oh!" he said coldly.

It was barely ten years ago that young Meryton, just down from Oxford,
had startled the political world by capturing the important seat of
Cricklewood (E.) for the Tariffadicals--as, to avoid plunging the
country into Civil War, I must call them. This was at a by-election, and
the Liberatives had immediately dissolved, only to come into power after
the General Election with an increased majority. Through the years that
followed, Rupert Meryton, by his pertinacity in asking the Invasion
Secretary questions which had been answered by him on the previous day,
and by his regard for the dignity of the House, as shown in his
invariable comment, "Come, come--not quite the gentleman," upon any
display of bad manners opposite, established a clear right to a post in
the subsequent Tariffadical Government. He had now been Under Secretary
for two years, and in this Bill his first real chance had come.

"Oh, there you are, Mr. Meryton," said a voice. "Come and talk to me a
moment." With a nod to a couple of Archbishops Lady Marchpane led the
way to a little gallery whither the crowd had not penetrated. Priceless
Correggios, Tintorettos, and G. K. Chestertons hu