“Are—are those the three ways you spoke of—to make women like you, I mean?” Lady Alicia ventured to ask, though she was beginning to wish the sofa was larger. “They are examples of the three classical methods: cuddling, humbugging, and piquing. Which do you prefer?” “Tell me about your—your troubles,” she answered, gaining courage a little. “You belong to the sex which makes no mention of figs and spades,” he rejoined; “but I understand you to mean that you prefer humbugging.” He drew a long face, sighed twice, and looking tenderly into Lady Alicia’s blue eyes, began in a gentle, reminiscent voice, “My boyhood was troubled and unhappy: no kind words, no caresses. I was beaten by a cruel stepfather, ignored and insulted for my physical deformities by a heartless stepmother.” He stopped to sigh again, and Lady Alicia, with a boldness that surprised herself, and a perspicacity that would have surprised her friends, asked, “How could they—I mean, were they _both_ step?” “Several steps,” he replied; “in fact, quite a long journey.” With this explanation Lady Alicia was forced to remain satisfied; but as he had paused a second time, and seemed to be immersed in the study of his shoes, she inquired again, “You spoke of physical infirmities; do you mean——?” “Deformities,” he corrected; “up to the age of fourteen years I could only walk sideways, and my hair parted in the middle.” He spoke so seriously that these unusual maladies seemed to her the most touching misfortunes she had ever heard of. She murmured gently, “Yes?” “As the years advanced,” Mr Beveridge continued, “and I became more nearly the same weight as my stepfather, my life grew happier. It was decided to send me to college, so I was provided with an insufficient cheque, a complete set of plated forks, and three bath-towels, and despatched to the University of Oxford. At least I think that was the name of the corporation which took my money and endeavoured to restrict my habits, though, to confess the truth, my memory is not what it used to be. There I learned wisdom by the practice of folly—the most amusing and effective method. My tutor used to tell me I had some originality. I apologised for its presence in such a respectable institution, and undertook to pass an examination instead. I believe I succeeded: I certainly remember giving a dinner to celebrate something. Thereupon at my own expense the University inflicted a degree upon me, but I was shortly afterwards compensated by the death of my uncle and my accession to his estates. Having enjoyed a university education, and accordingly possessing a corrected and regulated sentiment, I was naturally inconsolable at the decease of this venerable relative, who for so long had shown a kindly interest in the poor orphan lad.” He stopped to sigh again, and Lady Alicia asked with great interest, “But your step-parents, you always had them, hadn’t you?” “Never!” he replied, sadly. “Never?” she exclaimed in some bewilderment.