ow," I murmured, "what else could prevent you
from proposing to Daphne--when you are so undeniably in love with her?"

"A great deal," he answered. "For example, the sense of my own utter
unworthiness."

"One's own unworthiness," I replied, "though doubtless real--p'f,
p'f--is a barrier that most of us can readily get over when our
admiration for a particular lady waxes strong enough. So THIS is the
prior attachment!" I took the portrait down and scanned it.

"Unfortunately, yes. What do you think of her?"

I scrutinised the features. "Seems a nice enough little thing," I
answered. It was an innocent face, I admit; very frank and girlish.

He leaned forward eagerly. "That's just it. A nice enough little thing!
Nothing in the world to be said against her. While Daphne--Miss Tepping,
I mean--" His silence was ecstatic.

I examined the photograph still more closely. It displayed a lady of
twenty or thereabouts, with a weak face, small, vacant features, a
feeble chin, a good-humoured, simple mouth, and a wealth of golden hair
that seemed to strike a keynote.

"In the theatrical profession?" I inquired at last, looking up.

He hesitated. "Well, not exactly," he answered.

I pursed my lips and blew a ring. "Music-hall stage?" I went on,
dubiously.

He nodded. "But a girl is not necessarily any the less a lady because
she sings at a music-hall," he added, with warmth, displaying an evident
desire to be just to his betrothed, however much he admired Daphne.

"Certainly not," I admitted. "A lady is a lady; no occupation can in
itself unladify her.... But on the music-hall stage, the odds, one must
admit, are on the whole against her."

"Now, THERE you show prejudice!"

"One may be quite unprejudiced," I answered, "and yet allow that
connection with the music-halls does not, as such, afford clear proof
that a girl is a compound of all the virtues."

"I think she's a good girl," he retorted, slowly.

"Then why do you want to throw her over?" I inquired.

"I don't. That's just it. On the contrary, I mean to keep my word and
marry her."

"IN ORDER to keep your word?" I suggested.

He nodded. "Precisely. It is a point of honour."

"That's a poor ground of marriage," I went on. "Mind, I don't want for a
moment to influence you, as Daphne's cousin. I want to get at the truth
of the situation. I don't even know what Daphne thinks of you. But you
promised me a clean breast. Be a man and bare it."

He bared it ins