ntain
of chaff in the old aristocratic hatred of people who are in trade. The
world has outgrown this hatred. The age of the aristocrat is past."

"I'm not so sure of that," Stuart answered, thoughtfully. "The old
aristocracy had their weaknesses. They were always gamblers and the
devotees of licentiousness. But they despised lying and stealing. And
the feudal code of the old patrician bred a high type of man. The new
code of the liar has not yet made this demonstration. The grace,
elegance, breeding and culture of the past are no longer binding laws
on the new masters of the world. I think you may get on a while without
the patrician, but the question is how long can you live without his
virtues?"

An answer was on Bivens's lips when the soft tones of hidden oriental
gongs began to chime the call for dinner. The chimes melted into a
beautiful piece of orchestral music which seemed to steal from the sky,
so skilfully had the musicians been concealed.

Nan suddenly appeared by Stuart's side, and he was given the honour of
leading his hostess into the banquet hall, before even the king, while
the great ones of earth slowly followed.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE DANCE OF DEATH

A flush of excited pleasure overspread Stuart's face as he led his
beautiful hostess to the dining room.

He paused at the entrance with an exclamation of surprise:

"Well, of all the wonders!"

"But you can't stop yet!" whispered Nan, drawing him gently on.

Apparently on entering the banquet hall they were stepping outdoors
into an enchanted pine forest. The walls were completely hidden by
painted scenery representing the mountains of western North Carolina.
The room had been transformed into a forest, trees and shrubbery
melting imperceptibly into the scenery on the walls, and mocking birds
were singing in cages hidden high among the boughs of the trees.

Stuart gazed at the great panorama painting on the wall, fascinated.

"Why, Nan," he gasped, "that's a view of the river hills at home where
you and I used to roam."

"Well, if you hadn't recognized it, I should never have forgiven you."

"How on earth did your artists get it so perfectly?"

"I sent him there, of course. He did it in three weeks. There's
something else in that picture I thought you'd see, too."

"Isn't it now!" Stuart laughed, as they reached the head of the central
table. "A boy and girl sitting on a fence looking down at the river in
the valley below."

"T