a marriage couldn't take place without
columns and columns of twaddle about it--all the dressmakers who made
gowns for the bride would want a mention--and if they paid for it of
course they'd get it. No--it hasn't come off yet--but it will. The
venerable bridegroom that is to be has just gone abroad somewhere--so I
see by one of the 'Society' rags,--probably to the States to make some
more 'deals' in cash before his wedding."

"You know his name, then?"

"Oh yes! Everybody knows it, and knows him too! David Helmsley's too
rich to hide his light under a bushel! They call him 'King David' in the
city. Now your name's David--but, by Jove, what a difference in Davids!"
And he laughed, adding quickly--"I prefer the David I see before me now,
to the David I never saw!"

"Oh! You never saw the old rascal then?" murmured Helmsley, putting up
one hand to stroke his moustache slowly down over the smile which he
could not repress.

"Never--and don't want to! If I become famous--which I _will_ do,"--and
here Angus set his teeth hard--"I'll make my bow at one of Mrs.
Millionaire Helmsley's receptions one day! And how will she look then!"

"I should say she would look much the same as usual,"--said Helmsley,
drily--"If she is the kind of young woman you describe, she is not
likely to be overcome by the sight of a merely 'famous' man. You would
have to be twice or three times as wealthy as herself to move her to any
sense of respect for you. That is, if we are to judge by what our
newspapers tell us of 'society' people. The newspapers are all we poor
folk have got to go by."

"Yes--I've often thought of that!" and Angus rubbed his forehead again
in a vigorous way as though he were trying to rub ideas out of it--"And
I've pitied the poor folks from the bottom of my heart! They get pretty
often misled--and on serious matters too."

"Oh, we're not all such fools as we seem,"--said Helmsley--"We can read
between the lines as well as anyone--and we understand pretty clearly
that it's only money which 'makes' the news. We read of 'society ladies'
doing this, that and t' other thing, and we laugh at their doings--and
when we read of a great lady conducting herself like an outcast, we feel
a contempt for her such as we never visit on her poor sister of the
streets. The newspapers may praise these women, but we 'common people'
estimate them at their true worth--and that is--nothing! Now the girl
you made an ideal of----"

"She was t