But Siddall in his soberest moment would have been slow to admit a suspicion that any of the human race, which he regarded as on its knees before him, was venturing to poke fun at him. Drunk as he now was, the openest sarcasm would have been accepted as a compliment. After a gorgeous dessert which nobody more than touched--a molded mousse of whipped and frozen cream and strawberries--"specially sent on to me from Florida and costing me a dollar apiece, I guess"--after this costly wonder had disappeared fruit was served. General Siddall had ready a long oration upon this course. He delivered it in a disgustingly thick tone. The pineapple was an English hothouse product, the grapes were grown by a costly process under glass in Belgium. As for the peaches, Potin had sent those delicately blushing marvels, and the charge for this would be "not less than a louis apiece, sir--a louis d'or--which, as you no doubt know, is about four dollars of Uncle Sam's money." The coffee--"the Queen of Holland may have it on her PRIVATE table--MAY, I say--but I doubt if anyone else in the world gets a smell of it except me"--the coffee and the brandy came not a moment too soon. Presbury was becoming stupefied with indigestion; his wife was nodding and was wearing that vague, forced, pleasant smile which stands propriety-guard over a mind asleep; Mildred Gower felt that her nerves would endure no more; and the general was falling into a besotted state, spilling his wine, mumbling his words. The coffee and the brandy revived them all somewhat. Mildred, lifting her eyes, saw by way of a mirrored section of the enormous sideboard the English butler surveying master and guests with slowly moving, sneering glance of ineffable contempt. In the drawing-room again Mildred, requested by Siddall and ordered by Presbury, sang a little French song and then--at the urging of Siddall--"Annie Laurie." Siddall was wiping his eyes when she turned around. He said to Presbury: "Take your wife into the conservatory to look at my orchids. I want to say a word to your stepdaughter." Mildred started up nervously. She saw how drunk the general was, saw the expression of his face that a woman has to be innocent indeed not to understand. She was afraid to be left alone with him. Presbury came up to her, said rapidly, in a low tone: "It's all right. He's got a high sense of what's due a respectable woman of our class. He isn't as drunk as he looks and acts." Having said which, he took his wife by the arm and pushed her into the adjoining conservatory. Mildred reseated herself upon the inlaid piano-bench. The little man, his face now shiny with the sweat of drink and emotion, drew up a chair in front of her. He sat--and he was almost as tall sitting as standing. He said graciously: "Don't be afraid, my dear girl. I'm not that dangerous."