AT THE SIGN OF THE EAGLE

By Gilbert Parker



"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,