ch young Englishmen fancy
they have a sort of right to perform in the less civilised country. 'He
imagined, I have no doubt,' said he, 'that he was studying the condition of
Ireland, and investigating the land question, when he carried on a fierce
flirtation with a pretty Irish girl.'

'And there was a flirtation?'

'Yes, but nothing more. Nothing really serious at any time. So far he
behaved frankly and well, for even at the outset of the affair he owned
to--a what shall I call it?--an entanglement was, I believe, his own
word--an entanglement in England--'

'Did he not state more of this entanglement, with whom it was, or how, or
where?'

'I should think not. At all events, they who told me knew nothing of these
details. They only knew, as he said, that he was in a certain sense tied
up, and that till Fate unbound him he was a prisoner.'

'Poor fellow, it _was_ hard.'

'So _he_ said, and so _they_ believed him. Not that I myself believe he was
ever seriously in love with the Irish girl.'

'And why not?'

'I may be wrong in my reading of him; but my impression is that he regards
marriage as one of those solemn events which should contribute to a man's
worldly fortune. Now an Irish connection could scarcely be the road to
this.'

'What an ungallant admission,' said she, with a smile. 'I hope Mr. Walpole
is not of your mind.' After a pause she said, 'And how was it that in your
intimacy he told you nothing of this?'

He shook his head in dissent.

'Not even of the "entanglement"?'

'Not even of that. He would speak freely enough of his "egregious blunder,"
as he called it, in quitting his career and coming to Ireland; that it was
a gross mistake for any man to take up Irish politics as a line in life;
that they were puzzles in the present and lead to nothing in the future,
and, in fact, that he wished himself back again in Italy every day he
lived.'

'Was there any "entanglement" there also?'

'I cannot say. On these he made me no confidences.'

'Coffee, my lady!' said the butler, entering at this moment. Nor was Atlee
grieved at the interruption.

'I am enough of a Turk,' said she laughingly, 'to like that muddy, strong
coffee they give you in the East, and where the very smallness of the cups
suggests its strength. You, I know, are impatient for your cigarette, Mr.
Atlee, and I am about to liberate you.' While Atlee was muttering his
assurances of how much he prized her presence, she broke in, 'Bes