e general swim: nobody knows."

"It is the most senseless proceeding altogether," says Hermia Herrick,
in her decided way. "Gladstone's wars are toys. He has had three of them
now, dear little fellow, to amuse himself with, and he ought to be proud
of his victories."

"According to Erasmus, war is the 'malady of princes,'" says Lord
Rossmoyne, sententiously.

"Rossmoyne isn't well," says Mr. Kelly, softly. "He is calling the
wood-cutter a prince. It reminds one of Hans Andersen's fairy-tale: all
hewers of wood and drawers of water were blood-royal then."

"Yet Gladstone has intellect," says Mrs. Herrick, in oh, _such_ a tone:
would that the master of Hewarden could have heard her!

"Some!" said Mr. Kelly. "He is indeed 'a thing apart.' I know nothing
like him. 'Once, in the flight of ages past, there lived a _man_.' In
ages to come they will say that of our modern immortal William. They
will probably add that no _real_ man has ever lived since."

"How silly you can be at times!" says Olga.

"It isn't mine; it's Montgomery's nonsense," says Mr. Kelly, sadly.
"Blame him, not me."

"I don't want to blame any one," says Olga, with a skillfully-suppressed
yawn; "but, taking your view of the case, I think it will be an awful
age when there _doesn't_ live a man."

"Your 'occupation will be o'er,' indeed," says Rossmoyne, with an
accentuated bitterness, "when that time comes."

("He must be very much in love with her," thinks Monica, with a touch of
inspiration, "he is so excessively rude to her!")

"Lord Rossmoyne," says Mrs. Bohun, turning to him with ineffable
sweetness, "will you do something for me?"

The transition from coldness to tender appeal is too much for Rossmoyne:
his face brightens.

"You know there is nothing I would not do for you," he says, gravely but
eagerly.

"Then," promptly, "please take that ugly frown off your forehead and put
it in your pocket; or--no, throw it away altogether; if you kept it near
you, you might be tempted to put it on again."

"I did not know I was frowning."

"You were," sweetly. "You are all right again now, and so shall be
rewarded. You can't think how unbecoming frowns are, and how much better
you look when you are all 'sweetness and light' as now for example.
Come," rising, "you shall take me for a nice long walk through these
delightful old gardens."

As she moves she sees the daisies still clinging to her gown that Ulic
Ronayne has been amusing himself wit