o
meringues, and say it was wonderful how much one could teach them and
how much more one could learn from them."

"What could you learn from a meringue?" asked Eleanor's mother.

"My aunt has been known to learn humility from an ex-Viceroy," said
Clovis.

"I wish cook would learn to make curry, or have the sense to leave it
alone," said Arlington, suddenly and savagely.

Eleanor's face softened. It was like one of his old remarks in the
days when there was no abyss between them.

It was during the debate on the Foreign Office vote that Stringham made
his great remark that "the people of Crete unfortunately make more
history than they can consume locally." It was not brilliant, but it
came in the middle of a dull speech, and the House was quite pleased
with it. Old gentlemen with bad memories said it reminded them of
Disraeli.

It was Eleanor's friend, Gertrude Ilpton, who drew her attention to
Arlington's newest outbreak. Eleanor in these days avoided the morning
papers.

"It's very modern, and I suppose very clever," she observed.

"Of course it's clever," said Gertrude; "all Lady Isobel's sayings are
clever, and luckily they bear repeating."

"Are you sure it's one of her sayings?" asked Eleanor.

"My dear, I've heard her say it dozens of times."

"So that is where he gets his humour," said Eleanor slowly, and the
hard lines deepened round her mouth.

The death of Eleanor Stringham from an overdose of chloral, occurring
at the end of a rather uneventful season, excited a certain amount of
unobtrusive speculation. Clovis, who perhaps exaggerated the
importance of curry in the home, hinted at domestic sorrow.

And of course Arlington never knew. It was the tragedy of his life
that he should miss the fullest effect of his jesting.

SREDNI VASHTAR

Conradin was ten years old, and the doctor had pronounced his
professional opinion that the boy would not live another five years.
The doctor was silky and effete, and counted for little, but his
opinion was endorsed by Mrs. de Ropp, who counted for nearly
everything. Mrs. De Ropp was Conradin's cousin and guardian, and in
his eyes she represented those three-fifths of the world that are
necessary and disagreeable and real; the other two-fifths, in perpetual
antagonism to the foregoing, were summed up in himself and his
imagination. One of these days Conradin supposed he would succumb to
the mastering pressure of wearisome necessary things--