oked into his eyes something which now, under the influence of the
brandy-and-soda, seemed almost a promise. "Dear little soul!" he
muttered; "if she marries me I will refuse her nothing. It will be the
devil's own job, though, to get her any sort of an engagement ring.
Tiffany, perhaps, might give me one on credit, but it will have to be
something very handsome, something new; not that tiresome solitaire.
Those stones I saw the other day--H'm! I wonder what that fellow is
staring at me for?"

He lounged forward to where the men were seated, and, being asked to
draw a chair, graciously accepted the invitation and another
brandy-and-soda as well.

"It was this way," the stranger exclaimed, excitedly, when he and Jones
had been introduced. "I was telling these gentlemen when you came in
that you looked like the Grand Duke Sergius--"

"Thank you," the novelist answered, affably. "The same to you."

"I never saw him though," the stranger continued.

"No more have I."

"Only his picture."

"Your remark, then, was doubly flattering."

"But the picture to which I allude was that of a chimerical grand duke."

"Really, sir, really you are overwhelming."

"But wait a minute, do wait a minute. Mr. Jones, I don't know whether
you caught my name: it is Fairbanks--David Fairbanks."

"Delighted! I remember it perfectly. My old friend, Nicholas Manhattan,
bought a ruby of you once, and a beauty it was. I heard at the time that
you made a specialty of them."

"So did the grand duke. He came here, you know, on that man-of-war."

"Yes, I know. Mrs. Wainwaring gave him a reception. It was just my luck:
I was down with the measles at the time."

"Oh, you were, were you? You were down with the measles, eh? Well, I
wish I had been. Gentlemen, listen to this; you must listen. I was in my
office in Maiden Lane one day, when a young man came in. He wore the
most magnificent fur coat I have ever seen in my life. No, that coat was
something that only Russia could have produced. He handed me a card on
which was engraved

P^{CE} MICHEL ZAROGUINE,

_Aide-de-camp de S. A. I. le grand-duc Serge de Russie._

"And then, of all things in the world, he offered me a pinch of snuff,
and when I refused he helped himself out of a beautiful box and flicked
the grains which had fallen on his lapel with a nimbleness of finger
such as it was a pleasure to behold. I ought to tell you that he spoke
English with great precision, though