The Amateur Gentleman

"Do you remember that he said it was meant we should be--friends?"

"Yes."

"Well I--think he was right,--I'm sure he was right. I--didn't know

how few my friends were until I--fell out with you. And so--I'm here

to--to ask your pardon, and I--don't know how to do it, only--oh,

deuce take it! Will you give me your hand, Bev?"

But before the words had well left his lips, Barnabas had sprang

forward, and so they stood, hand clasped in hand, looking into each

other's eyes as only true friends may.

"I--we--owe you so much, Bev--Clemency has told me--"

"Indeed, Dick," said Barnabas, a little hastily, "you are a

fortunate man to have won the love of so beautiful a woman, and one

so noble."

"My dear fellow," said the Viscount, very solemn, "it is so

wonderful that, sometimes, I--almost fear that it can't be true."

"The love of a woman is generally a very uncertain thing!" said

Barnabas bitterly.

"But Clemency isn't like an ordinary woman," said the Viscount,

smiling very tenderly, "in all the world there is only one Clemency

and she is all truth, and honor, and purity. Sometimes, Bev, I feel

so--so deuced unworthy, that I am almost afraid to touch her."

"Yes, I suppose there are a few such women in the world," said

Barnabas, turning away. "But, speaking of the Apostle of Peace, have

you met him again--lately?"

"No, not since that morning behind the 'Spotted Cow.' Why?"

"Well, you mentioned him."

"Why yes, but only because I couldn't think of any other way

of--er--beginning. You were so devilish high and haughty, Bev."

"And what of Clemency?"

"She has promised to--to marry me, next month,--to marry me--me, Bev.

Oh, my dear fellow, I'm the very happiest man alive, and, egad, that

reminds me! I'm also the discredited and disinherited son of a

flinty-hearted Roman."

"What Dick,--do you mean he has--cut you off?"

"As much as ever he could, my dear fellow, which reduces my income

by a half. Deuced serious thing, y' know, Bev. Shall have to get rid

of my stable, and the coach; 'Moonraker' must go, too, I'm afraid.

Yes, Bev," sighed the Viscount, shaking his head at the reflection

of his elegant person in the mirror, "you behold in me a beggar, and

the cause--Clemency. But then, I know I am the very happiest beggar

in all this wide world, and the cause--Clemency!"

"I feared your father would never favor such a match, Dick, but--"

"Favor it! Oh, bruise and blister me!--"

"Have you told Clemency?"

"Not yet--"

"Has he seen her?"

"No, that's the deuce of it, she's away with her father, y' know.

Bit of a mystery about him, I fancy--she made me promise to be

patient a while, and ask no questions."