le, the gloss on his hat and shoes, the
freshness on his gloves, the correct angle on his stick. His dark, long
face with its romantic moustache, and its almost effeminate soft eyes,
was as unemotional and wearied as ever. As he approached, he raised his
stick slightly by way of salutation.

"I have brought," said he, "a carriage, and I wish you would both do me
the favour to accompany me on a short excursion."

Taking their consent for granted, he signalled the vehicle, which
rapidly approached.

The three--Carroll and Orde somewhat bewildered--took their seats.
During a brief drive, Gerald made conversation on different topics,
apparently quite indifferent as to whether or not his companions
replied. After an interval the carriage drew up opposite a brown-stone
dwelling on a side street. Gerald rang the bell, and a moment later the
three were ushered by a discreet and elderly maid into a little square
reception-room immediately off the hall. The maid withdrew.

Gerald carefully deposited his top hat on the floor, placed in it his
gloves, and leaned his stick against its brim.

"I have brought you here, among other purposes, to hear from me a little
brief wisdom drawn from experience and the observation of life," he
began, addressing his expectant and curious guests. "That wisdom is
briefly this: there comes a time in the affairs of every household when
a man must assert himself as the ruler. In all the details he may depend
on the woman's judgment, experience, and knowledge, but when it comes to
the big crises, where life is deflected into one channel or the other,
then, unless the man does the deciding, he is lost for ever, and
his happiness, and the happiness of those who depend on him. This is
abstruse, but I come to the particular application shortly.

"But moments of decision are always clouded by many considerations. The
decision is sure to cut across much that is expedient, much that seems
to be necessary, much that is dear. Carroll remembers the case of our
own father. The general would have made a name for himself in the army;
his wife demanded his retirement; he retired, and his career ended. That
was the moment of his decision. It is very easy to say, in view of that
simple statement, that the general was weak in yielding to his wife, but
a consideration of the circumstances--"

"Why do you say all this?" interrupted Orde.

Gerald raised his hand.

"Believe me, it is necessary, as you will agree w