grizzled beard and a penetrating eye, who had silently observed the
proceedings, and who now took the opportunity of introducing himself to
the hero of the moment.

"Are you not going to take any luncheon?" he asked.

"No, sir. Among the people I have lived with we don't eat at intervals
of three or four hours, all day long."

"Will you excuse me," pursued the other, "if I own I should like to
know _what_ people you have been living with? My name is Hethcote; I
was associated, at one time of my life, with a college devoted to the
training of young men. From what I have seen and heard this morning, I
fancy you have not been educated on any of the recognized systems that
are popular at the present day. Am I right?"

The excitable young man suddenly became the picture of resignation, and
answered in a formula of words as if he was repeating a lesson.

"I am Claude-Amelius-Goldenheart. Aged twenty-one. Son, and only child,
of the late Claude Goldenheart, of Shedfield Heath, Buckinghamshire,
England. I have been brought up by the Primitive Christian Socialists,
at Tadmor Community, State of Illinois. I have inherited an income of
five hundred a year. And I am now, with the approval of the Community,
going to London to see life."

Mr. Hethcote received this copious flow of information, in some doubt
whether he had been made the victim of coarse raillery, or whether he
had merely heard a quaint statement of facts.