pause
devoted to the briar pipe, he applied himself deliberately to its
consideration.

The first two he examined and tossed aside with a bored expression. The
third seemed to excite his interest. It was directed in a nervous,
irregular hand that had tried too hard to be firm, and had spluttered
the ink in consequence. The envelope was of a pearly grey tint. The Poor
Relation sniffed at it, and turned up his nose.

Nevertheless, he opened the missive with a promptitude that testified to
a certain amount of curiosity.

"Dear Knight Errant," he read, in the same desperate handwriting. "Do
you remember once years ago coming to the rescue of a lady in distress
who was chased by a bull? The lady has never forgotten it. Will you do
the same again for the same lady to-day, and earn her undying gratitude?
If so, will you confirm the statement in the _Morning Post_ as often and
as convincingly as you can till further notice? I wonder if you will? I
do wonder. I couldn't ask you if you were anything but poor and a sort
of relation as well.--Yours, _in extremis_,

"ERNESTINE CARDWELL.

"P.S.--Of course, don't do it if you would really rather not."

"Thank you, Ernestine!" said the Poor Relation. "That last sentence of
yours might be described as the saving clause. I would very much rather
not, if the truth be told; which it probably never will be. As you have
shrewdly foreseen, the subtlety of your '_in extremis_' draws me in
spite of myself. I have seen you _in extremis_ before, and I must admit
the spectacle made something of an impression."

He read the letter again with characteristic deliberation, lay back
awhile with pale blue eyes fixed unswervingly upon the ceiling, and
finally rose and betook himself to his writing-table.

"Dear Lady in Distress," he wrote. "I am pleased to note that even poor
relations have their uses. As your third cousin removed to the sixth or
seventh degree, I shall be most happy to serve you. Pray regard me as
unreservedly at your disposal. Awaiting your further commands.--Your
devoted

"KNIGHT ERRANT."

This letter he directed to Miss Ernestine Cardwell and despatched by
special messenger. Then, with a serene countenance, he glanced through
his remaining correspondence, stretched himself, yawned, looked out of
the window, and finally sauntered forth to his club.

II

CONGRATULATIONS

"Ye gods! I should think Lady Florence is feelin' pretty furious. The
fellow hasn't a penn