xchanged nods with
various acquaintances. Presently he passed an elderly gentleman with a
red face and small side whiskers. The elderly gentleman stared him in
the face, and sniffed ostentatiously.

"What a pity my poor father is so plain," Reggie said to himself with a
quiet smile. Only that morning he had received a long and vehement
diatribe from his parent, showering abuse upon him, and exhorting him to
lead a more reputable life. He had replied by wire--

"What a funny little man you are.--Reggie."

The funny little man had evidently received his message.

As his cab drew up for a moment at Hyde Park corner to allow a stream
of pedestrians to cross from the Park, he saw several people pointing
him out. Two well-dressed women looked at him and laughed, and he heard
one murmur his name to the other. He let his blue eyes rest upon them
calmly as they peacocked across to St. George's Hospital, still
laughing, and evidently discussing him. He did not know them, but he was
accustomed to being known. His life had never been a cautious one. He
was too modern to be very reticent, and he liked to be wicked in the eye
of the crowd. Secret wickedness held little charm for him. He preferred
to preface his failings with an overture on the orchestra, to draw up
the curtain, and to act his drama of life to a crowded audience of smart
people in the stalls. When they hissed him, he only pitied them, and
wondered at their ignorance. His social position kept him in Society,
however much Society murmured against him; and, far from fearing
scandal, he loved it. He chose his friends partly for their charm, and
partly for their bad reputations; and the white flower of a blameless
life was much too inartistic to have any attraction for him. He believed
that Art showed the way to Nature, and worshipped the abnormal with all
the passion of his impure and subtle youth.

"Lord Reginald Hastings," cried Mrs. Windsor's impressive butler, and
Reggie entered the big drawing-room in Belgrave Square with the delicate
walk that had led certain Philistines to christen him Agag. There were
only two ladies present, and one tall and largely built man, with a
closely shaved, clever face, and rather rippling brown hair.

"So sweet of you to come, dear Lord Reggie," said Mrs. Windsor, a very
pretty woman of the preserved type, with young cheeks and a middle-aged
mouth, hair that was scarcely out of its teens, and eyes full of a weary
sparkle. "But I k