"I'm really awfully sorry to trouble you, sir," he said in a tone of profuse apology, "but the fact is that I find myself in a state of considerable perplexity. It is extremely good of you to consent to accompany Horton back here. I only hope that I have not interfered with any appointment you have to keep." "Not at all," I replied, wondering who my host might be, for the whole affair was so sudden and unexpected that I was bewildered. "Do sit down, and have a cigar," said my unknown host cheerily, and he took up a large silver box from a side table whereon was set a decanter of whisky, a syphon of soda water and four glasses upon a beautiful old tray of Georgian silver. I selected a Corona, and sinking into the inviting chair, lit it, while he also took a cigar, and having clipped off the end, lit up as well. We chatted affably, for my host was certainly geniality itself. "This is quite an unexpected visit!" I remarked laughing, wondering still why I had been called in. "Yes," he said. "I should not have had the pleasure of your acquaintance had it not been for the great trouble I have to-night," and he drew a deep sigh, while across his dark face passed an expression of pain and regret. "Some men are happy, others are--are, well, unfortunately unhappy in their domestic life. I, alas! am one of the latter," he added. "That is very regrettable," I said sympathetically. "My wife," he said hoarsely after a pause, "my wife took out my little boy this evening and deliberately left him in Westbourne Grove--just in order to spite me! Then she rang me up from some call-office and told me what she had done. Put yourself in my place," he said. "Would you not be indignant? Would you not be filled with hatred--and----" "I certainly should," was my reply. "I'm a bachelor, and sometimes when I see so many unhappy marriages I fear to take the matrimonial plunge myself." "Ah! Take my advice and remain single as long as ever you can, my dear sir. I--I haven't the pleasure of your name." "Garfield--Hugh Garfield," I said. "Mine is De Gex--Oswald De Gex," he said. "You may perhaps have heard of me." Heard of Oswald De Gex! Of course I had! He was reputed to be one of the wealthiest of men, but he lived mostly in Paris or at his magnificent villa outside Florence. It was common knowledge that he had, during the war, invested a level million sterling in the War Loan, while he was constantly giving great donations to various charities. Somewhat eccentric, he preferred living abroad to spending his time in England, because, it was said, of some personal quarrel with another Member of the House of Commons which had arisen over a debate soon after he had been elected. I recollected, too, that his wife--whose handsome pictured face so often appeared in the newspapers--was the daughter of a sporting baronet, yet I had never heard any whisper of such matrimonial troubles as he had just revealed to me.