m, and he went back to London almost immediately, feeling quite
absurdly agitated about such an unimportant trifle.

* * * * *

An hour later, when quietly at home in his study, Vaughan was suddenly
seized by that species of madness that has been known to wreck careers, "to
launch a thousand ships," to cause all kinds of chaos. It was that terrible
_once-on-board-the-lugger-and-the-girl-is-mine-I-must-and-shall-possess-her_
feeling in its most acute form. Most men have known it at some time in
their lives. He thought of Harry de Freyne, and felt noble and superior
in contrast to what _his_ conduct would have been, as he sat down and
wrote with intense pleasure--

"Darling Gladys,

"I love you. Will you marry me? Please try. I'm writing to your
father. Don't keep me waiting long for the answer.

"Yours for always,
"GILLIE."

He then wrote a long and sensible letter to Mr. Brill; all business,
respect, and urgency, saying he knew that Gladys was very young, but
that he would make her happy, and so forth.

These two letters he sent off by express messenger in a taxicab to the
"Bald-faced Stag," and then sat down to dinner.

What a dinner! And what an evening he spent! He planned a long
journey--what fun to show the child new places and things! Why shouldn't
he marry the charming, refined, and beautiful daughter of an
hotel-keeper? He decided even on alterations in the house, and he meant
to be ecstatically happy.

What did he care for people? He had never lived either to _epater_ the
_bourgeois_ or to satisfy the ideal of the gentleman next door. He was
going to do something _he_ liked!...

* * * * *

He woke up the next morning at six o'clock with a ghastly chilly horror
on him. What had he done? Had he been mad? To marry Miss Brill, the
daughter of the landlord of a little suburban public-house! A girl of
sixteen, pretty enough certainly, but with no pretensions to being a
lady, no possibility of having anything in common with him. But it
wasn't so much the question of what people would say--of course, most of
the women he knew would drop him, and the men would laugh at him and
make love to her--but, how long would it last? How long would this
strange mania endure? Perhaps not a week. The poor child would have an
awful time, too. She was much happier as she