er. This and the chance encounters of the next few weeks gave
me furiously to think. I knew that in one respect my sister Agatha was
right. These good folks who shied now at the stains of murder with which
my reputation was soiled would in time get used to them and eventually
forget them altogether. But I reflected that I should not forget, and
I determined that I should not be admitted on sufferance, as at first
I should have to be admitted, into any man's club or any woman's
drawing-room.

One day Colonel Ellerton, Maisie Ellerton's father, called on me. He
used to be my very good friend; we sat on the same side of the House and
voted together on innumerable occasions in perfect sympathy and common
lack of conviction. He was cordial enough, congratulated me on my
marvellous restoration to health, deplored my absence from Parliamentary
life, and then began to talk confusedly of Russia. It took a little
perspicacity to see that something was weighing on the good man's mind;
something he had come to say and for his honest life could not get out.
His plight became more pitiable as the interview proceeded, and when he
rose to go, he grew as red as a turkey-cock and began to sputter. I went
to his rescue.

"It's very kind of you to have come to see me, Ellerton," I said, "but
if I don't call yet awhile to pay my respects to your wife, I hope
you'll understand, and not attribute it to discourtesy."

I have never seen relief so clearly depicted on a human countenance. He
drew a long breath and instinctively passed his handkerchief over his
forehead. Then he grasped my hand.

"My dear fellow," he cried, "of course we'll understand. It was a
shocking affair--terrible for you. My wife and I were quite bowled over
by it."

I did not attempt to clear myself. What was the use? Every man denies
these things as a matter of course, and as a matter of course nobody
believes him.

Once I ran across Elphin Montgomery, a mysterious personage behind many
musical comedy enterprises. He is jewelled all over like a first-class
Hindoo idol, and is treated as a god in fashionable restaurants,
where he entertains riff-raff at sumptuous banquets. I had some slight
acquaintance with the fellow, but he greeted me as though I were a long
lost intimate--his heavy sensual face swagged in smiles--and invited me
to a supper party. I declined with courtesy and walked away in fury. He
would not have presumed to ask me to meet his riff-raff before I