n Iron Ducal grimness. But now, at twenty-six, it was not the structure
of his face that impressed one; it was its expression. That was charming
and vivacious, and his smile was an irradiation. He was forever moving,
restlessly and rapidly, but with an engaging gracefulness. His frail and
slender body seemed to be fed by a spring of inexhaustible energy.

"No, you're not late."

"You're in time to answer a question," said Mr. Scogan. "We were arguing
whether Amour were a serious matter or no. What do you think? Is it
serious?"

"Serious?" echoed Ivor. "Most certainly."

"I told you so," cried Mary triumphantly.

"But in what sense serious?" Mr. Scogan asked.

"I mean as an occupation. One can go on with it without ever getting
bored."

"I see," said Mr. Scogan. "Perfectly."

"One can occupy oneself with it," Ivor continued, "always and
everywhere. Women are always wonderfully the same. Shapes vary a little,
that's all. In Spain"--with his free hand he described a series of ample
curves--"one can't pass them on the stairs. In England"--he put the tip
of his forefinger against the tip of his thumb and, lowering his hand,
drew out this circle into an imaginary cylinder--"In England they're
tubular. But their sentiments are always the same. At least, I've always
found it so."

"I'm delighted to hear it," said Mr. Scogan.

CHAPTER XVI.

The ladies had left the room and the port was circulating. Mr. Scogan
filled his glass, passed on the decanter, and, leaning back in his
chair, looked about him for a moment in silence. The conversation
rippled idly round him, but he disregarded it; he was smiling at some
private joke. Gombauld noticed his smile.

"What's amusing you?" he asked.

"I was just looking at you all, sitting round this table," said Mr.
Scogan.

"Are we as comic as all that?"

"Not at all," Mr. Scogan answered politely. "I was merely amused by my
own speculations."

"And what were they?"

"The idlest, the most academic of speculations. I was looking at you one
by one and trying to imagine which of the first six Caesars you would
each resemble, if you were given the opportunity of behaving like a
Caesar. The Caesars are one of my touchstones," Mr. Scogan explained.
"They are characters functioning, so to speak, in the void. They
are human beings developed to their logical conclusions. Hence their
unequalled value as a touchstone, a standard. When I meet someone
for the first time, I ask my