g a man of enterprise knew all the best
people, as well as all the worst, so that he dined out every night.

"You're a lucky feller," he repeated; "he's got some deuced good
shootin', Dennant! They come too high for me, though; never touched a
feather last time I shot there. She's a pretty girl. You 're a lucky
feller!"

"I know that," said Shelton humbly.

"Wish I were in your shoes. Who was that sittin' on the other side of
you? I'm so dashed short-sighted. Mrs. Carruther? Oh, ay!" An expression
which, if he had not been a baronet, would have been a leer, came on his
lips.

Shelton felt that he was referring to the leaf in his mental pocket-book
covered with the anecdotes, figures, and facts about that lady. "The old
ogre means," thought he, "that I'm lucky because his leaf is blank
about Antonia." But the old baronet had turned, with his smile, and
his sardonic, well-bred air, to listen to a bit of scandal on the other
side.

The two men to Shelton's left were talking.

"What! You don't collect anything? How's that? Everybody collects
something. I should be lost without my pictures."

"No, I don't collect anything. Given it up; I was too awfully had over
my Walkers."

Shelton had expected a more lofty reason; he applied himself to the
Madeira in his glass. That, had been "collected" by his host, and its
price was going up! You couldn't get it every day; worth two guineas a
bottle! How precious the idea that other people couldn't get it, made it
seem! Liquid delight; the price was going up! Soon there would be none
left; immense! Absolutely no one, then, could drink it!

"Wish I had some of this," said the old baronet, "but I have drunk all
mine."

"Poor old chap!" thought Shelton; "after all, he's not a bad old boy. I
wish I had his pluck. His liver must be splendid."

The drawing-room was full of people playing a game concerned with horses
ridden by jockeys with the latest seat. And Shelton was compelled to
help in carrying on this sport till early in the morning. At last he
left, exhausted by his animation.

He thought of the wedding; he thought over his dinner and the wine that
he had drunk. His mood of satisfaction fizzled out. These people were
incapable of being real, even the smartest, even the most respectable;
they seemed to weigh their pleasures in the scales and to get the most
that could be gotten for their money.

Between the dark, safe houses stretching for miles and miles, his
thought