he matter with him?" Tabs flipped the ash off his cigarette
indifferently.

"The matter with him!" Sir Tobias pulled at the point of his beard,
making a mental effort to frame the charge. "If you'd asked me that
question five years ago I could have told you; but not now. In 1914 we
spoke of a man as belonging to our class and meant that he had our
standards of conduct, our code of honor, our sense of public duty, our
traditions--that he could be trusted to run true to form. To-day any
man's a gentleman, provided he killed enough Germans."

"But still you do feel that there's something the matter with him."

"Yes, but I can't tell you for the life of me why I feel it. In many
ways he's admirable: I believe he's about the youngest brigadier we have
who rose from the ranks. There was no hanky-panky about his promotion
either--no petticoat influence; it was all sheer merit and courage. He
was a fighting-man from first to last and shared all the chances. But
the trouble is that one doesn't know where he came from, and, therefore,
one can't be sure where he's going. I know that sounds snobbish. You
have the right to tell me that if a man was good enough to be butchered
to save an old chap like myself, he ought to be good enough to sit down
with me at the same table. But what people don't realize is that men
have been wounded in protecting old chaps like myself in coal-mines, and
on railroads, and a thousand other places ever since the world started,
but until now we never felt it necessary to offer them a bed in our
houses. War asked for the simplest gifts from men, physical strength,
uncomplaining endurance and courage. The war's ended, and if those same
gifts are to continue to secure social advancement, every policeman who
captures a burglar ought to be made a bank-president. When I demand that
a man shall have traditions to be my friend, I ask no more than when I
refuse to buy a dog without a pedigree."

"But this man, what's he called? If he's as distinguished as you say, I
ought to have heard of him."

Before his host could answer, the door was discreetly opened. "Dinner is
being served, Sir Tobias."

There was a rush of light footsteps and Terry breezed past the butler.
"I know you're going to scold me, Daddy. It's all my fault that you were
kept waiting. It took me so long to persuade General Braithwaite. By the
time he'd consented---- I had to dress like a hurricane. I'm not at all
sure that I'm properly hooked