a choice cigar assists a man in taking a philosophic outlook on the
question under discussion; so I accepted the partaga. He sat
down opposite me and pointed to a photograph in the centre of his
mantlepiece. "I am engaged to that lady," he put in, shortly.

"So I anticipated," I answered, lighting up.

He started and looked surprised. "Why, what made you guess it?" he
inquired.

I smiled the calm smile of superior age--I was some eight years or so
his senior. "My dear fellow," I murmured, "what else could prevent you
from proposing to Daphne--when you are so undeniably in love with her?"

"A great deal," he answered. "For example, the sense of my own utter
unworthiness."

"One's own unworthiness," I replied, "though doubtless real--p'f,
p'f--is a barrier that most of us can readily get over when our
admiration for a particular lady waxes strong enough. So THIS is the
prior attachment!" I took the portrait down and scanned it.

"Unfortunately, yes. What do you think of her?"

I scrutinised the features. "Seems a nice enough little thing," I
answered. It was an innocent face, I admit; very frank and girlish.

He leaned forward eagerly. "That's just it. A nice enough little thing!
Nothing in the world to be said against her. While Daphne--Miss Tepping,
I mean--" His silence was ecstatic.