“I thoroughly sympathize with you, Mr. Van Vleck. We are almost powerless to check this rebellious spirit. There is a limit, of course, to protest beyond which a gentleman cannot go. I fully realize that. There have been many things to disturb us of late; we, I mean, who cling to the old ideas and the best traditions of our set. And, do you know, I hold the newspapers responsible for a good deal of the harm that has been done.” “You are right, Percy-Bartlett! you are right!” cried his host with more animation than he usually displayed. “There have been those among us who seemed to actually crave notoriety. It has been shocking--shocking! I really don’t know what we’re coming to. Do you know, I gave a small dinner-party last night,--twelve at the table, you know,--and, will you believe me, a reporter came to the house and asked for a list of my guests. That’s a straw that shows which way the wind blows. When I was young, sir, a man could dine at home without awakening the curiosity of the public. But, tell me, aren’t you well? You look very pale. I am worried about you, my friend.” Percy-Bartlett was leaning back in his chair, a gray pallor on his face, and his lips almost colorless. Leaning forward with an effort, he swallowed the remaining drops of brandy in his glass. “It is nothing, Mr. Van Vleck,” he said, after a moment’s silence; “I have been doing too much work and worrying of late. I really believe I need a vacation.” “You do indeed, sir,” remarked his host emphatically. “Come, young man, listen to reason. The one great privilege that wealth grants is that it gives us our freedom. Come over to London with us. We sail Wednesday morning. Drop your work right here and take a rest. If you don’t, you’ll break down, Percy-Bartlett, and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men won’t be able to pull you together again.” Percy-Bartlett looked at his elderly companion gratefully. It was a novel and welcome sensation to have some one take an interest in his welfare. There was silence for a time. Then he said, as he arose slowly, as though his head felt giddy,-- “Perhaps you are right, Mr. Van Vleck. Come into the drawing-room with me. I’ll ask Harriet what she thinks of the scheme.” CHAPTER XXIII. “Even if it turns out happily, Harriet, I will always feel that she did an unwomanly thing.”