hat he is vulnerable
after all. If he is playing fast and loose with the government he
will never get his honors before he gives up the sleeping trust of the
forgotten years."

Major Hawke vainly tried to follow the exuberant Anstruther in his
incursion into the placid temple of Minerva, where that watchful
spinster, Miss Euphrosyne Delande, eyed somewhat icily the handsome.
young "Greek bearing gifts." Professional prudence and the memory of
certain judiciously smothered escapades caused Miss Euphrosyne at first
to retire within her moral breast works and draw up the sally-port
bridge. For even in chilly Geneva, young hearts throb in nature's
flooding lava passions, jealously bodiced in school-girl buckram and
glacial swiss muslin. So it was very cool for a time in the august
cavern of conference where Anson Anstruther, a bright Ithuriel,
struggled with the cautious and covetous Swiss preceptress, and the
swift steamer Chilian was far up the lake before Captain the victorious
Honorable Anson Anstruther, sped away to the morning meeting with the
woman who had seemed to lean down from the moon-lit skies upon her young
Endymion in that starry night by the throbbing lake.

Major Alan Hawke, proceeding on his voyage, found a certain bitterness
in the distant mental contemplation of Captain Anstruther's employment
of his leisure till train time, not knowing that the young soldier's
sense of duty led him first to dispatch several careful official
dispatches, one to London, and the two others to Calcutta and Delhi,
respectively. When Captain Anstruther finally deposited his mail with
the head porter of the Grand Hotel National he deftly questioned that
functionary. "My friend--Major Hawke?"

"Gone up the lake for two or three days, sir. Going to Lausanne and
Chillon. Keeps all his luggage here, though. Shall I give him any
message for you?" With a view to artfully veiling his coming meeting
with the beautiful Egeria a la Houbigant, the captain deposited a card
marked "P. P. C."

"A devilish pleasant fellow and a right stunning hand at ecarte."
Anstruther prudently walked for a couple of squares, and then hailed
a passing voiture, directing him to the very cosiest restaurant in the
snug city of Bonnivard.

Major Hawke, far away now, entertained a slight resentment toward the
man who had so coolly aspired to les bonnes fortunes, and ignored his
own possible interference with the Lady of the Lake. It was with a grim
satisf