you say with an incredulous smile, "Why, Harry, I have heard
you ridicule honor a thousand times where women are concerned, and of
course this scrape involves a woman." You are right there--it does;
or rather a woman has involved me, and there lies the scrape. As for
honor, I laugh at most of the things I believe in, just because it's
the fashion of the day--and I belong to the day I live in--_not_ to
wear one's heart on one's sleeve. Then, too, sometimes one finds that
logically one thinks a thing, an idea, a feeling absurd, and yet when
one's life comes into collision with it, somehow up springs something
within you which I suppose might be called an instinct, and forces you
to respect and cherish and uphold the very feeling or idea which you
have always ridiculed.

Well, I'll tell you my story, and then perhaps you'll tell me what to
do. About--let me see--a month ago I went with some men one evening,
out of pure idleness, to a public meeting. The men who spoke were
all stupid, and roared and mouthed stuff "full of sound and fury,
signifying nothing," and I was thinking how I could get away and have
a game of cards at the club, when suddenly a voice like music smote
upon my astonished ears. I looked up, and there on the platform stood
a woman, speaking, by Jove! and doing it well, too. I listened and
looked, and should have enjoyed it if it had not disgusted me so in
theory. I must confess, barring the fact of her being there, there
was nothing objectionable about her. She was handsome, and had a
magnificent voice: she talked a hundred per cent, better than the men
who preceded her; and it was well for the meeting that it was over
when she stopped: any other speaker would have made a terrible
anti-climax. The two fellows with me proposed our being introduced to
her, and half from curiosity, half--I swore to speak the truth--half,
George, from attraction (hear me out, old fellow: she was
feminine-looking and very handsome)--I went forward and was presented.
She interested and attracted me, the more so perhaps that from the
moment our eyes met I was conscious that there existed between us a
strong natural affinity, latent, but capable of being developed. I
called on her the next day, and made my cousin Clara invite her to a
party. Clara, who is thoroughly unconventional, and would do anything
to please me, did so without a second thought. But imagine my distress
when, as I entered the drawing-room a little late, I saw