KOHLEMAN, _Retired Clerk of Court_. Knight S.H.O. P.S. Best regards. Don't mind all that talk. The duel came to nothing. Our little lieutenant besought us not to ruin him and asked that his name be not mentioned. He has left town." Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Niebeldingk threw the letter aside. Now that the affair was about to float into oblivion, he became aware of the fact that it had weighed most heavily upon him. And he began to feel ashamed. He, a man who, by virtue of his name and of his wealth and, if he would be bold, by virtue of his intellect, was able to live in some noble and distinguished way--he passed his time with banalities that were half sordid and half humorous. These things had their place. Youth might find them not unfruitful of experience. They degraded a man of forty. If these things filled his life to-day, then the years of training and slow maturing had surely gone for nothing. And what would become of him if he carried these interests into his old age? His schoolmates were masters of the great sciences, distinguished servants of the government, influential politicians. They toiled in the sweat of their brows and harvested the fruits of their youth's sowing. He strove to master these discomforting thoughts, but every moment found him more defenceless against them. And shame changed into disgust. To divert himself he went out into the streets and landed, finally, in the rooms of his club. Here he was asked concerning his latest adventure. Only a certain respect which his personality inspired saved him from unworthy jests. And in this poverty-stricken world, where the very lees of experience amounted to a sensation--here he wasted his days. It must not last another week, not another day. So much suddenly grew clear to him. He hurried away. Upon the streets brooded the heat of early summer. Masses of human beings, hot but happy, passed him in silent activity. What was he to do? He must marry: that admitted of no doubt. In the glow of his own hearth he must begin a new and more tonic life. Marry? But whom? A worn out heart can no longer be made to beat more swiftly at the sight of some slim maiden. The senses might yet be stirred, but that is all. Was he to haunt watering-places and pay court to mothers on the man-hunt in order to find favour in their daughters' eyes? Was he to travel from estate to estate and alienate the affection of young _chatelaines_ from their favourite lieutenants? Impossible! He went home hopelessly enough and drowsed away the hours of the afternoon behind drawn blinds on a hot couch. Toward evening the postman brought a letter--in Alice's hand. Alice! How could he have forgotten her! His first duty should have been to see her. He opened the envelope, warmly grateful for her mere existence. "DEAR FRIEND:--