tartled,
turned round. Stafford, his handsome face flushed from the champagne,
but now tense and angry, was looking at him fiercely:

"Take care, old chap, how you talk of Miss Blaine! She's going to be
my wife!"

"Your wife!" exclaimed Hadley, removing his cigar from his mouth in
sheer surprise.

"Yes, my wife," repeated Stafford grimly. "What about it?"

"Nothing--nothing at all, my dear fellow," he stammered, looking
narrowly at his companion to see if he was sober, "allow me to
congratulate you."

There was an awkward pause. Then suddenly Stafford broke into a loud
peal of laughter. His momentary ill humor had passed. Unable to
account for the sudden change of mood, Hadley came to the conclusion
that the railroad man was enjoying a joke at his expense.

"You were guying me, eh?" he laughed.

Stafford hiccoughed and shook his head. With drunken gravity he
replied:

"No, siree--sure as your life--she's going to marry me."

Calling the waiter, he motioned to him to open another bottle of wine.

"We'll drink to her health, Hadley, old top. Nicest girl in the
world!"

The champagne was uncorked and the railroad promoter poured out the
wine with an unsteady hand. Lifting his glass he cried with mock
sentimentality:

"To Virginia--my bride!"

The men touched glasses and Stafford, putting his glass to his lips,
drained it at one gulp. Hadley stared at him in growing amazement. He
saw his friend was drunk, but this was the first time he had suspected
him of losing his senses.

"And how long has this been going on?" exclaimed his companion when he
had recovered somewhat from his amazement.

Stafford laughed.

"Ever since that day you were in my rooms at the hotel," he
hiccoughed. "Didn't I tell you that I contemplated matrimony? Don't
you remember?"

"I didn't believe you. I thought you were joking. I never thought you
were the marrying sort."

"Why not?" spluttered the railroad man in an injured tone.

Hadley looked his friend straight in the face. He was not the kind of
a man to shrink from telling a friend the truth.

"Do you want the truth?" he said slowly. "Well--you're too fond of
your pleasures--too selfish! That's frank--but it's the truth.
Selfishness keeps most men single. They're afraid to lose their
liberty. When you marry you can say good-bye to your freedom."

"Who said so?" exclaimed Stafford, his face redder than ever, his lips
tightening.

Hadley carelessly flecked the ash from