ed in one of your branches.'

Presently the young fellow who had spoken so pertly a little before
reached out and took the telegram, and when he read it he lost colour
and began to apologise and explain. He said he would lose his place if
this deadly telegram was sent, and he might never get another. If he
could be let off this time he would give no cause of complaint again.
The compromise was accepted.

As we walked away, the Major said:

'Now, you see, that was diplomacy--and you see how it worked. It
wouldn't do any good to bluster, the way people are always doing.
That boy can always give you as good as you send, and you'll come out
defeated and ashamed of yourself pretty nearly always. But you see he
stands no chance against diplomacy. Gentle words and diplomacy--those
are the tools to work with.'

'Yes, I see: but everybody wouldn't have had your opportunity. It isn't
everybody that is on those familiar terms with the President of the
Western Union.'

'Oh, you misunderstand. I don't know the President--I only use him
diplomatically. It is for his good and for the public good. There's no
harm in it.'

I said with hesitation and diffidence:

'But is it ever right or noble to tell a lie?'

He took no note of the delicate self-righteousness of the question, but
answered with undisturbed gravity and simplicity:

'Yes, sometimes. Lies told to injure a person and lies told to profit
yourself are not justifiable, but lies told to help another person,
and lies told in the public interest--oh, well, that is quite another
matter. Anybody knows that. But never mind about the methods: you see
the result. That youth is going to be useful now, and well-behaved. He
had a good face. He was worth saving. Why, he was worth saving on his
mother's account if not his own. Of course, he has a mother--sisters,
too. Damn these people who are always forgetting that! Do you know,
I've never fought a duel in my life--never once--and yet have been
challenged, like other people. I could always see the other man's
unoffending women folks or his little children standing between him and
me. They hadn't done anything--I couldn't break their hearts, you know.'

He corrected a good many little abuses in the course of the day, and
always without friction--always with a fine and dainty 'diplomacy' which
left no sting behind; and he got such happiness and such contentment
out of these performances that I was obliged to envy him his trade--a