--I mean were,"
corrected herself Miss Fossett, with a hasty glance towards the Wee
Laddie. "There isn't a man I know that's worthy of her."

"I mean," explained the doctor, "dat he must be a man of character--of
brain. Id is de noble man dat is attracted by de noble woman."

"By the chorus-girl more often," suggested Miss Fossett.

"We must hope for the best," counselled Peter. "I cannot believe that a
clever, capable woman like Mary Ramsbotham would make a fool of herself."

"From what I have seen," replied Miss Fossett, "it's just the clever
people--as regards this particular matter--who do make fools of
themselves."

Unfortunately Miss Fossett's judgment proved to be correct. On being
introduced a fortnight later to Miss Ramsbotham's fiance, the impulse of
Bohemia was to exclaim, "Great Scott! Whatever in the name of--" Then
on catching sight of Miss Ramsbotham's transfigured face and trembling
hands Bohemia recollected itself in time to murmur instead: "Delighted,
I'm sure!" and to offer mechanical congratulations. Reginald Peters was
a pretty but remarkably foolish-looking lad of about two-and-twenty, with
curly hair and receding chin; but to Miss Ramsbotham evidently a
promising Apollo. Her first meeting with him had taken place at one of
the many political debating societies then in fashion, attendance at
which Miss Ramsbotham found useful for purposes of journalistic "copy."
Miss Ramsbotham, hitherto a Radical of pronounced views, he had succeeded
under three months in converting into a strong supporter of the
Gentlemanly Party. His feeble political platitudes, which a little while
before she would have seized upon merrily to ridicule, she now sat
drinking in, her plain face suffused with admiration. Away from him and
in connection with those subjects--somewhat numerous--about which he knew
little and cared less, she retained her sense and humour; but in his
presence she remained comparatively speechless, gazing up into his
somewhat watery eyes with the grateful expression of one learning wisdom
from a master.

Her absurd adoration--irritating beyond measure to her friends, and which
even to her lover, had he possessed a grain of sense, would have appeared
ridiculous--to Master Peters was evidently a gratification. Of selfish,
exacting nature, he must have found the services of this brilliant woman
of the world of much practical advantage. Knowing all the most
interesting people in London, it