"No, it is impossible," answered Mr. King, for about the fiftieth time.
"Our plans will not allow it. I hope you and your daughter will have
the best of times," he remarked politely.

"Yes, we shall; we meet old friends there, and Paris is always
delightful." Mrs. Vanderburgh bit her lip in her vexation. "I was going
to see you and beg you even now to change your plans, while we were on
the steamer waiting to land," she went on hurriedly, "but you were
bored--I quite pitied you--by that tiresome, common, old Mr. Selwyn."

"Yes, I was talking with him," said Mr. King, "but excuse me, I was not
bored. He is peculiar, but not at all common, and he has many good
qualities as a man; and I like the boy immensely."

"How can you?" Mrs. Vanderburgh gave a little high-bred laugh. "They
are so insufferably common, Mr. King, those Selwyns are."

"Excuse me," said Mr. King, "that was the Earl of Cavendish; it will do
no harm to mention it now, as they have gone."

"Who--who?" demanded Mrs. Vanderburgh in a bewildered way.

"I did not know it till this morning," Mr. King was explaining, "but
our fellow-passenger, Mr. Selwyn, chose to cross over keeping his real
identity unknown, and I must say I admire his taste in the matter; and
anyway it was his affair and not mine." It was a long speech, and at
its conclusion Mrs. Vanderburgh was still demanding, "Who--who?" in as
much of a puzzle as ever.

"The Earl of Cavendish," repeated Mr. King; "Mr. Selwyn is the Earl of