But this time she could get no more than a qualified promise out of me.
To tell the truth, I would have wagered a handsome sum that the story
of my expedition that summer would stain no paper and spoil not a single
pen. And that shows how little we know what the future holds; for here I
am, fulfilling my qualified promise, and writing, as I never thought
to write, a book--though it will hardly serve as an introduction to
political life, and has not a jot to do with the Tyrol.

Neither would it, I fear, please Lady Burlesdon, if I were to submit it
to her critical eye--a step which I have no intention of taking.




CHAPTER 2

Concerning the Colour of Men's Hair


It was a maxim of my Uncle William's that no man should pass through
Paris without spending four-and-twenty hours there. My uncle spoke out
of a ripe experience of the world, and I honoured his advice by putting
up for a day and a night at "The Continental" on my way to--the Tyrol.
I called on George Featherly at the Embassy, and we had a bit of dinner
together at Durand's, and afterwards dropped in to the Opera; and
after that we had a little supper, and after that we called on Bertram
Bertrand, a versifier of some repute and Paris correspondent to The
Critic. He had a very comfortable suite of rooms, and we found some
pleasant fellows smoking and talking. It struck me, however, that