When he had finished packing his trunk he went down to the dinner he had ordered to be in readiness at a certain hour, at a certain table, carefully chosen beforehand; for Ardmore was very exacting in such matters and had an eye to the comforts of life, as he understood them. As he crossed the hotel lobby on his way to the restaurant he was accosted by a reporter for the Atlanta _Palladium_, who began to question him touching various Ardmores who were just then filling rather more than their usual amount of space in the newspapers. Ardmore's family, with the single exception of his sister, Mrs. Atchison, bored him immensely. His two brothers and another sister, the Duchess of Ballywinkle, kept the family name in display type a great deal of the time, and their performances had practically driven Thomas Ardmore from New York. He felt keenly his shame in being brother-in-law to a dissolute duke, and the threatened marriage of one of his brothers to a chorus girl had added, he felt, all too great a burden to a family tree whose roots, he could not forget it, were soaked in contraband rum. The reporter was a well-mannered youth and Ardmore shook his hand encouragingly. He was rather curious to see what new incident in the family history was to be the subject of inquisition, and the reporter immediately set his mind at rest. "Pardon me, Mr. Ardmore, but is it true that your sister, the Duchess of Ballywinkle, has separated from the duke?" "You may quote me as saying that while I am not quite sure, yet I sincerely hope the reports are true. To be frank with you, I do not like the duke; in fact, strictly between ourselves, I disliked him from the first," and Ardmore shook his head gravely, and meditatively jingled the little gold pieces that he always carried in his trousers pockets. "Well, of course, I had heard that there was some trouble between you and your brother-in-law, but can't the _Palladium_ have your own exact statement, Mr. Ardmore, of what caused the breach between you?" Ardmore hesitated and turned his head cautiously. "You understand, of course, that this discussion is painful to me, extremely painful. And yet, so much has been published about my sister's domestic affairs--" "Exactly, Mr. Ardmore. What we want is to print _your_ side of the story." "Very decent of you, I'm sure. But the fact is--" and Ardmore glanced over his shoulder again to be sure he was not overheard--"the fact is--" and he paused, batting his eyes as though hesitating at the point of an important disclosure. "Yes, Mr. Ardmore," encouraged the reporter. "Well, I don't mind telling _you_, but don't print this. Let it be just between ourselves." "Oh, of course, if you say not--" "That's all right; I have every confidence in your discretion; but, if this will go no further, I don't mind telling you--" "You may rely on me absolutely, Mr. Ardmore."