zed out of this unpromising incident.

The creditors--and he had some--would not like it! The dreary process of
dunning a man across half the globe, the hopelessness of appeals that took
two months to come to hand, and the inefficacy of threats that were wafted
over miles of ocean! And certainly he smiled as he thought of these, and
rather maliciously bethought him of the truculent importunity that menaced
him with some form of publicity in the more insolent appeal to some
Minister at home. 'Our tailor will moderate his language, our jeweller
will appreciate the merits of polite letter-writing,' thought he. 'A few
parallels of latitude become a great school-master.'

But there were greater advantages even than these. This banishment--for it
was nothing else--could not by any possibility be persisted in, and if Lady
Maude should consent to accompany him, would be very short-lived.

'The women will take it up,' said he, 'and with that charming clanship that
distinguishes them, will lead the Foreign Secretary a life of misery till
he gives us something better.--"Maude says the thermometer has never been
lower than 132 deg., and that there is no shade. The nights have no breeze, and
are rather hotter than the days. She objects seriously to be waited on by
people in feathers, and very few of them, and she remonstrates against
alligators in the kitchen-garden, and wild cats coming after the canaries
in the drawing-room."

'I hear the catalogue of misfortunes, which begins with nothing to
eat, plus the terror of being eaten. I recognise the lament over lost
civilisation and a wasted life, and I see Downing Street besieged with
ladies in deputations, declaring that they care nothing for party or
politics, but a great deal for the life of a dear young creature who is to
be sacrificed to appease some people belonging to the existing Ministry. I
think I know how beautifully illogical they will be, but how necessarily
successful; and now for Maude herself.'

Of Lady Maude Bickerstaffe Walpole had seen next to nothing since his
return; his own ill-health had confined him to his room, and her inquiries
after him had been cold and formal; and though he wrote a tender little
note and asked for books, slyly hinting what measure of bliss a five
minutes' visit would confer on him, the books he begged for were sent, but
not a line of answer accompanied them. On the whole, he did not dislike
this little show of resentment. What he really