or her guardian--or her cousin? Was
anybody present who had a claim to represent her? No?

"The broadening trickle of blood on Delafield's face dripped down the
white shirt front, but no one stirred or spoke.

"'Then I wa--want to say'--here he lurched forward from the door and
stood rocking slightly at the end of the table. 'I want to say that
I--I'm drunk an'--and I know it. But I'm--I'm a gentleman. An'--and
yonder's nothing but a cur--a low-lived cur--drunk or sober. You--you've
heard him--now see him!'

"Something flashed before his eyes, and then a wine-glass struck Hawkins
square on the forehead, scattering in fragments over the table.

"And Hawkins stood there, his face dripping with the wine, and his
clothes showing great stains of it--stood there without moving as
Delafield leaned over the table and laughed--

"'If--if you only had as much re--red blood in you--you--you----'

"And then he fell fainting across the table, crashing among the bottles.

"The Governing Board expelled Delafield, but the club sentiment was so
strongly in his favour that they afterward rescinded the expulsion, and
suspended him for three years. But that never satisfied his friends."

"I should think not, indeed," exclaimed Joline, "it was outrageous! I've
always claimed you can't be sure a man's a thorough gentleman until
you've seen him drunk. And that proves it."

"Oh, the many times I've heard your theory debated in this place! The
walls fairly ached with listening to the discussions."

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't know the chap," interrupted Chandler. "Let's
drink to his memory!"

He struck the bell as he spoke. As the waiter filled the orders, I
noticed one of the older members on the stairs bending close to the
bulletin board and peering through his glasses at the notice of John
Delafield's death.

Chandler touched me on the shoulder.

"To the memory of a gentleman--Jack Delafield!" he cried. We rose to the
toast.

The old man on the stairs turned quickly and saw the lifted glasses. His
face was a study.

"Hush!" I whispered, "that's Hawkins."

THE DISTANT DRUM.

"Some for the Glories of this World; and some
Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come;
Ah, take the Cash and let the Credit go,
Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!"

--_Rubaiyat._

I.

Almost everyone knows Governor Tilden's residence in Gramercy Park, but
those who don't know it as such, may reme