iring information of a pathological description.

"Yes, complications. Of the sort that are most difficult to deal with,
emotional and moral--beginning with his engagement to Lady
Constance----"

"Oh, dear me!"--this, piteously, from that lady's father.

"And ending--his Satanic Majesty knows where! I don't. It's no concern
of mine, nor of any one else's in my opinion. He has paid his
footing--every man has to pay it, sooner or later--to life and
experience, and personal acquaintance with the _thou shalt not_ which,
for cause unknown, goes for so almighty much in this very queer
business of human existence. He has had a rough time, never doubt that,
with his high-strung, arrogant, sensitive nature and the dirty trick
played on him by that heartless jade, Dame Fortune, before his birth.
For the time, this illness had knocked the wind out of him. If he sulks
for a bit, small blame to him. But he'll come round. He is coming round
day by day."

As he finished speaking the doctor got on to his feet somewhat
awkwardly. His subject had affected him more deeply than he quite cared
either to own to himself or to have others see.

"That plaguy sciatic nerve again!" he growled.

Lord Fallowfeild had risen also.--"Capable man, Knott, but rather rough
at times, rather too didactic," he said to himself, as he turned to
greet Miss St. Quentin. She had strolled in from the hall. Her charming
face was full of merriment. There was something altogether gallant in
the carriage of her small head.

"I was so awfully glad to see Lord Shotover!" she said, as she gave her
hand to that gentleman's father. "It's an age since he and I have met."

"Very pleasant hearing, my dear young lady, for Shotover, if he was
here to hear it! Lucky fellow, Shotover."--The kindly nobleman beamed
upon her. He was nothing if not chivalrous. Mentally, all the same, he
was much perplexed. "Of course, I remember who she is. But I understood
it was Ludovic," he said to himself. "Made sure it was Ludovic.
Uncommonly attractive, high-bred woman. Very striking looking pair, she
and Shotover. Can't fancy Shotover settled though. Say she's a lot of
money. Wonder whether it is Shotover?--Uncommonly fine run, best run
we've had for years," he added aloud. "Pity you weren't out, Miss St.
Quentin.--Well, good-bye, Mrs. Cathcart. I must be going. I am
extremely grateful for all your kindness and hospitality. It is seldom
I have the chance of meeting so many friends th