loved him
enough. Anyway he went from bad to worse, until 'poor fellow' used to
be coupled with his name, and Delafield in various states of
intoxication became a familiar sight in these rooms.

"He must have been a handsome fellow before drink coarsened and aged
him, for he was still good looking, though prematurely old, when I first
met him, shortly after my election to the club. About that time Galloway
gave his bachelor dinner in the private dining-room upstairs. I attended
as one of the ushers, and there were perhaps a dozen other guests--among
them Delafield. The dinner was as most such dinners are, a toast for
every sentiment, and sentiments galore, so when we adjourned to the
grill-room for coffee, Jack tipped his chair against the wall over there
and fell asleep. We sat about the centre-table smoking, and testing some
remarkable port sent to grace the occasion.

"I don't recall what led up to the conversation, but I do remember that
the general subject was women, and that Hawkins coupled the name
of--well, a decent girl, with a remark so coarse that most of us stopped
talking, though two or three laughed. It was a speech such as I suppose
you've all heard made at some time or another, and which always seems
to receive the tribute of a laugh before being buried in the silence of
self-respecting men.

"It was in the hush following this remark that Delafield's chair fell
sideways to the floor with a crash, making us start to our feet and
setting the glasses tinkling. The roar of mirth that burst out at this
mishap ceased instantly, as we saw Delafield's ghastly face, down which
the blood was running from a deep gash in his forehead.

"Someone hurried forward, offering help, but Delafield pushed him aside,
staggered to his feet, closed the door and leaned his back against
it--his arms spread out as though to bar an exit.

"We stood around the table in silence, watching him. Two or three
minutes must have passed before he spoke.

"'Is--Mi--Miss Smith en--gaged?'

"The question was asked slowly in a low tone, as though the man was
struggling to control voice and speech.

"We looked at one another and at the swaying figure before the door, but
no one answered.

"'Is--Miss Smith's--father here?'

"No answer.

"'Is Miss Smith's brother here?'

"It was difficult to see all the faces in the smoky half-light of the
lamps, but those about me showed a pallor of apprehension.

"Was Miss Smith's uncle there--