she blushed quite charmingly—at least, the Ex-Ambassador thought she did—and then that absolutely direct glance of about two thousand candle-power came right at the noble earl, who proceeded to register on the tablets of his worldly wise old mind the following pearl of wisdom: No Wonder The Young Fools Marry 'Em Nowadays.
"So you want to get him into Parliament, do you—as a Rag?" mused the old cynic.
"Dear Lord Warlock, if you would only give me a little advice, I am really so ignorant!"
There was just room for two persons on the decrepit sofa that had the honor of holding my lord. Would it bear the weight of both of 'em? was another poser for Mary the Tactful. She would risk it, anyhow; and so she sat down beside the Ex-Ambassador in a charmingly impulsive manner, and said, "Dear Lord Warlock, do help me," and very nearly slew one who had grown old in the world with her good gray eyes.
It may almost be laid down as an axiom that ex-ambassadors are pretty deep as a rule. This one was certainly not an exception. Not only did his dark and self-contained appearance suggest considerable guile, but this picturesque impression was amply confirmed by the fascinating curves of his intellect. In fine, my lords and gentlemen, His Britannic Majesty's Ex-Am-
