at the opera, and took a box frequently at the theatres, and although we often dined at the Savoy, and the Carlton, and the Ritz hotels, and on all these occasions my gallant-looking father accompanied us, yet when we went into so-called Society he was hardly ever present. I asked Lady Helen the reason one day. I said to her:

"It is so dull without father. Why doesn't he come with us?"

On this occasion she frowned and looked anxious; then she said:

"Oh, we shall manage it, probably, by next year; we must not be too eager. People forget very quickly, and we must not expect too much this year, but next year doubtless things will be all right."

"But what can there be to forget?" I said.

"Nothing, nothing at all," she replied. "Don't be so inquisitive, child."

Meanwhile, I will own that I was having a good time—that is, if admiration, expressed and unexpressed, could give it to me. Lady Helen was proud of me when she saw people flocking round me and when she observed that the nicest men asked me to dance, and the ladies whose houses she was most anxious to get invited to sent me also invitations. She made a fuss over me, and petted me according to her lights. So I was happy in a kind of fashion, although, to tell the truth, there were times over and again when I felt very like a prisoner—a prisoner in a gilt cage.

One day something rather peculiar occurred. I did not think much of it at the time, although I was destined to give it several thoughts later on. Lady Helen received a letter amongst many others, which she opened shortly after breakfast. Father was in the room. He was leaning back in a big chair, and was reading The Times. I noticed that father always turned to the army news first in reading any paper; he was looking at the army news at that moment. He was intensely interested about everything to do with the army; and that I could scarcely wonder at, seeing that he himself was a Major in His Majesty's service.

Lady Helen opened her letter, turned a little white, and flung it across the table to father.

"There!" she said. "What are we to do now?"

Father took up the letter and read it slowly. His face did not look exactly white, but a very peculiar mottled sort of colour spread slowly over his cheeks, and his eyes became fierce and wild. As a rule, he was quick and eager in his 

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