the family, but we wouldn't acknowledge them!"

"What a fellow-feeling that gives one!" I said. "At school, at
college, in business, in the war with Spain when I served on the
Dixie, my life has been one long struggle to preserve that little
f against a capital F world. I remember saying that to a chum the
day we sank Cervera, 'If I am killed, Bill,' I said, 'see that
they don't capital F me on the scroll of fame!'"

"A true ffrench!" exclaimed Beauty with approval.

"As true as yourself," I said.

"Do you know that I'm the last of them?" she said.

"You!" I exclaimed. "The last!"

"Yes," she said, "when my father dies the estates will pass to my
second cousin, Lord George Willoughby, and our branch of the
family will become extinct."

"You fill me with despair," I said.

"My father never can forgive me for being a girl," she said.

"I can," I remarked, "even at the risk of appearing disloyal to
the race."

"Fyles," she said, addressing me straight out by my first name,
and with a little air that told me plainly I had made good my