hero?'

Mrs. Selwyn laughed playfully. 'Oh, now your very words show that you do
know whom I mean.'

'Indeed I don't.'

'Why, that wonderful man whom you admire so much, the illustrious exile,
the hero of the hour, the new Napoleon.'

'I know whom you mean,' said Soame Rivers. 'You mean the Dictator of
Gloria?'

'Of course. Whom else?' said Mrs. Selwyn, clapping her hands
enthusiastically. The Duke gave a sigh of relief, and Hiram Borringer,
who had been rather silent, seemed to shake himself into activity at the
mention of Gloria. Mr. Selwyn said nothing, but watched his wife with
the wondering admiration which some twenty years of married life had
done nothing to diminish.

The least trace of increased colour came into Helena's cheeks, but she
returned Mrs. Selwyn's smiling glances composedly.

'The Dictator,' she said. 'Why did you expect to see him here to-day?'

'Why, because I saw his name in the "Morning Post" this very morning. It
said he had arrived in London last night from Paris. I felt morally
certain that I should meet him here to-day.'

'I am sorry you should be disappointed,' Helena said, laughing, 'but
perhaps we shall be able to make amends for the disappointment another
day. Papa called upon him this morning.'

Sir Rupert, sitting opposite his daughter, smiled at this. 'Did I
really?' he asked. 'I was not aware of it.'

'Oh, yes, you did, papa; or, at least, I did for you.'

Sir Rupert's face wore a comic expression of despair. 'Helena, Helena,
why?'

'Because he is one of the most interesting men existing.'

'And because he is down on his luck, too,' said the Duchess. 'I guess
that always appeals to you.' The beautiful American girl had not shaken
off all the expressions of her fatherland.

'But, I say,' said Selwyn, who seemed to think that the subject called
for statesmanlike comment, 'how will it do for a pillar of the
Government to be extending the hand of fellowship----'

'To a defeated man,' interrupted Helena. 'Oh, that won't matter one bit.
The affairs of Gloria are hardly likely to be a grave international
question for us, and in the meantime it is only showing a courtesy to a
man who is at once an Englishman and a stranger.'

A slightly ironical 'Hear, Hear,' came from Soame Rivers, who did not
love enthusiasm.

Sir Rupert followed suit good-humouredly.

'Where is he stopping?' asked Sir Rupert.

'At Paulo's Hotel, papa.'

'Paulo's Hotel,' said Mrs. Selwyn; 'that