At The Sign Of The Eagle

"Life in her creaking shoes
Goes, and more formal grows,
A round of calls and cues:
Love blows as the wind blows.
Blows! . . . "

"Well, what do you think of them, Molly?" said Sir Duke Lawless to his
wife, his eyes resting with some amusement on a big man and a little one
talking to Lord Hampstead.

"The little man is affected, gauche, and servile. The big one picturesque
and superior in a raw kind of way. He wishes to be rude to some one, and
is disappointed because, just at the moment, Lord Hampstead is too polite
to give him his cue. A dangerous person in a drawing-room, I should
think; but interesting. You are a bold man to bring them here, Duke. Is
it not awkward for our host?"

"Hampstead did it with his eyes open. Besides, there is business behind
it--railways, mines, and all that; and Hampstead's nephew is going to the
States fortune-hunting. Do you see?"

Lady Lawless lifted her eyebrows. "'To what base uses are we come,
Horatio!' You invite me to dinner and--'I'll fix things up right.' That
is the proper phrase, for I have heard you use it. Status for dollars.
Isn't it low? I know you do not mean what you say, Duke."

Sir Duke's eyes were playing on the men with a puzzled expression, as
though trying to read the subject of their conversation; and he did not
reply immediately. Soon, however, he turned and looked down at his wife
genially, and said: "Well, that's about it, I suppose. But really there
is nothing unusual in this, so far as Mr. John Vandewaters is concerned,
for in his own country he travels 'the parlours of the Four Hundred,' and
is considered 'a very elegant gentleman.' We must respect a man according
to the place he holds in his own community. Besides, as you suggest, Mr.
Vandewaters is interesting. I might go further, and say that he is a very
good fellow indeed."

"You will be asking him down to Craigruie next," said Lady Lawless,
inquisition in her look.

"That is exactly what I mean to do, with your permission, my dear. I hope
to see him laying about among the grouse in due season."

"My dear Duke, you are painfully Bohemian. I can remember when you were
perfectly precise and exclusive, and--"

"What an awful prig I must have been!"

"Don't interrupt. That was before you went aroving in savage countries,
and picked up all sorts of acquaintances, making friends with the most
impossible folk. I should never be surprised to see you drive Shon
McGann--and his wife, of course--and Pretty Pierre--with some other man's
wife--up to the door in a dogcart; their clothes in a saddle-bag, or
something less reputable, to stay a