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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 The Vice of Fools
 
 MR. CHATFIELD-TAYLOR'S BOOKS. 
 
 THE LAND OF THE CASTANET; SPANISH SKETCHES, ILLUS 
 TRATED. I 2MO. 
 
 TWO WOMEN AND A FOOL; PICTURES BY C. D. GIBSON. 
 l6MO. 
 
 AN AMERICAN PEERESS; l6MO. WITH EDGE TOOLS; l6MO.
 
 HARDY STOOD BEFORE THE KIKK."
 
 The Vice of Fools 
 
 by 
 H. C. Chatfield-Taylor 
 
 Illustrations by 
 
 Raymond M. Crosby 
 
 HERBERT S. STONE &f CO. 
 
 Chicago 3" New York 
 
 1897
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY 
 HERBERT S. STONE & CO.
 
 ps 
 
 V 
 
 " OF ALL THE CAUSES WHICH CONSPIRE TO BLIND 
 
 MAN'S ERRING JUDGMENT, AND MISGUIDE THE MIND, 
 WHAT THE WEAK HEAD WITH STRONGEST BIAS RULES, 
 IS PRIDE, THE NEVER-FAILING VICE OF FOOLS." 
 
 Pope.
 
 The Vice of Fools 
 
 " SET FORTH IN POMP SHE CAME." 
 Richard II. v. i. 
 
 Official Washington was huddled in the 
 drawing-rooms of the Secretary of War. 
 All sorts and conditions of bureaucracy were 
 there. Lean, litigious congressmen with 
 shaggy locks, or corpulent and pompous 
 senators with radiant bald spots, touched 
 shoulders with cabinet officers and their 
 clerks, while scornful diplomats with glit 
 tering baubles dangling from their coat 
 lapels mingled with officers in blue and gold 
 and everywhere were the rustling gowns of 
 pretentious wives and pretty daughters. 
 
 These people smirked and nodded, prat 
 tled and jostled with the gratifying con 
 sciousness that they were fulfilling the 
 function for which the chance of party su 
 premacy had chosen them. There is a
 
 2 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 complacency in office-holding which is per 
 haps reward sufficient for the labors of 
 government, even with the dread spectre of 
 oblivion hovering near. 
 
 Secretary Duncan and his daughter stood 
 together receiving. A constant stream of 
 people poured down the stairs from the 
 floor above and perfunctorily shook hands. 
 The presentations were being made by a 
 tall young cavalry officer, sturdy and erect, 
 but more at home in the saddle than the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 "What a severe expression that soldier 
 has," said de Komlossy, the Hungarian 
 Minister, to Mrs. Cortland, who was sitting 
 with him on a divan, watching the incoming 
 crowd. 
 
 Mrs. Cortland, a New Yorker by birth, a 
 cosmopolite by experience, was a widow of 
 forty who had chosen Washington as her 
 winter home with the expressed intention 
 of being amused. Wealthy and childless, 
 she viewed the world from the composite 
 standpoint of a beautiful woman and an ex 
 perienced man. She was born with the 
 tactful genius of a controlling spirit in poli 
 tics, but being a woman she contented her-
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 3 
 
 self with controlling politicians. In figure 
 she was a girl, and in spite of ten years of 
 widowhood and twenty of social vicissi 
 tude, she looked not a day over thirty. It 
 is true that her enemies insisted dark tints 
 were discernible about the roots of her 
 golden hair, but this unkindness was caused 
 by jealousy of her superiority a superiority 
 attributable not, as in the case of many 
 women, merely to artifice but to a rare in 
 telligence and a natural simplicity and 
 modesty inseparable from good breeding. 
 
 "Yes," Mrs. Cortland replied to the min 
 ister's remark, raising her lorgnon with an 
 interested gesture; "Jack Hardy would like 
 to handle that crowd like a detachment of 
 recruits or a herd of broncos." 
 
 "That fellow ought to be a cowboy," 
 said Komlossy. "I don't like your sol 
 diers ; they are too brusque and always awk 
 ward in a drawing-room." 
 
 "Possibly they were intended for some 
 other service," said Mrs. Cortland dryly. 
 
 The Hungarian glanced at her with his 
 keen little eyes. There was a slight sneer 
 on his lip, partially concealed by the stubby 
 white hairs of his mustache.
 
 4 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "You are unlike most American society 
 women," he said; "You do not apologize 
 for your country's faults." 
 
 "No, I applaud its virtues." 
 
 "In that you are original." 
 
 "Is it original to be patriotic; is it origi 
 nal to have a principle?" 
 
 "Ah, madam, with you patriotism is not 
 a principle. I fear it is merely a pastime, 
 or dare I say it? a pose." 
 
 "Most women would resent that." 
 
 "But, my dear Mrs. Cortland," the little 
 diplomat said fulsomely; "you are not 
 most women ; you are unique a monopoly 
 of charm with a modicum of fault." 
 
 "I hate compliments, Komlossy. They 
 are merely intended to delude fools. The 
 wise they nauseate." 
 
 "But, madame, when a compliment con 
 veys the truth " 
 
 "Then it is no longer a compliment." 
 
 "You are too cynical to be a woman too 
 clever to be a man." 
 
 Mrs. Cortland glanced at her well-turned 
 shoulders. 
 
 "Let us talk about something serious," 
 she said abruptly.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 5 
 
 "Eh bien. Let us talk about Secretary 
 Duncan's pretty daughter and that Jack 
 Hardy whom I do not like. " 
 
 She raised her eyes and took one quick 
 glance at the tall girl who stood beside her 
 father greeting the incoming guests. 
 
 What a beautiful creature, she thought. 
 Women's eyes reveal their hearts, the lips 
 their habits. That girl longs for love 
 and gets admiration. She is almost too 
 clever. 
 
 Mrs. Cortland cast a side glance at the 
 young soldier who stood beside Violet Dun 
 can. Too straightforward and stiff to win 
 a girl like Violet, she thought. That would 
 need a tactician more skilled than herself. 
 
 "No, I don't think that is serious," she 
 said to her companion. 
 
 "The soldier at least is serious," replied 
 the diplomat. 
 
 "Successful soldiers usually are." 
 
 ' ' But I mean he is in love de pied en cap. 
 He growls like a mastiff when a man speaks 
 to her." 
 
 "I don't believe he has even told her 
 that he loves her." 
 
 "Nonsense."
 
 6 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Men like Hardy love silently for years, 
 because they are too proud to speak." 
 
 "Or too priggish." 
 
 "Why do you dislike him so?" 
 
 "Because he has no manners." 
 
 "He has morals, which are much rarer 
 now-a-days." 
 
 "Morals are the stock in trade of prigs." 
 
 "You must not abuse him so. At any rate 
 he is a brave man." 
 
 "Yes, your congress has given him that 
 bronze medal ; another case of politics I pre 
 sume." 
 
 "He left his command to rescue a 
 wounded sergeant in the face of a thousand 
 hostiles, " said Mrs. Cortland resentfully. 
 "Is not that bravery?" 
 
 The Hungarian laughed with a sinister 
 little cackle. 
 
 "Well, granting he is brave, I main 
 tain he is rude and that he is head over 
 heels in love with that girl. Will she 
 marry him?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "She wants a grand duke?" 
 
 "No, she wants nothing more than 
 love."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 7 
 
 "Is she so bourgeoise as that?" 
 
 ''She is a superior girl." 
 
 Komlossy shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Superior to her father, yes. She is the 
 man of the family. She has more tact and 
 cleverness than half the cabinet, but when 
 you tell me she has a heart, I do n't be 
 lieve it." 
 
 "All women have hearts, a few have in 
 tellects." 
 
 "Bah, a woman's heart is like one of 
 those toy balloons children play with, it is 
 lighter than air and most restless when tied 
 to somebody. You think you have it 
 when, psht, away it goes. The only way 
 to make an impression is to break it." 
 
 "Why are you so spiteful, Komlossy?" 
 
 "Because for the moment I am con 
 tented. Charity is bred in misery." 
 
 Mrs. Cortland did not reply. She raised 
 her eyeglass and gazed about the room. 
 
 "Tell me," she said; "you know every 
 body. Who is that handsome, well- 
 groomed man who has just come in? He 
 looks like an Englishman." 
 
 Komlossy smiled. 
 
 "Don't you know him? Why, that is
 
 8 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 Ritchie Maitland, one of your country's 
 most distinguished diplomats, late Secre 
 tary of Embassy in Paris, but at present, 
 owing to the fall of the political axe, unat 
 tached and looking for a job." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I know all about him. They 
 say he made himself very unpopular with 
 Americans visiting Europe." 
 
 "Because he refused to introduce some 
 long-bearded senators and their wives to 
 the sacred precincts of the Faubourg St. 
 Germain, where his own position was none 
 too sure." 
 
 "I should like to meet him. I wish you 
 would introduce him." 
 
 "Madame, your wishes are commands," 
 said the minister rising from his seat. He 
 was a thin little man, with a parchment-like 
 skin and glossy white hair, who walked 
 with a distinguished step. He had been in 
 Washington for several years and spoke En 
 glish almost without an accent. Unlike 
 many of his colleagues he understood the 
 various shades of American political and 
 social life. 
 
 Seeing the minister vacate his seat, a man 
 who was standing near by approached.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 9 
 
 "Good-evening, Mrs. Cortland," he 
 said. 
 
 "Ah, good-evening, General Lloyd," she 
 answered, raising her eyes to the new 
 comer, a man of about sixty, tall, suave, 
 and rather stout, with a sleek, well-bred 
 look, but with cruel eyes and sensuous lips. 
 In his button-hole was the rosette of the 
 Loyal Legion; his clothes were scrupu 
 lously fashionable, and he spoke with a soft, 
 well-modulated voice. 
 
 "I saw you talking to Komlossy," 
 he said as he took the seat beside Mrs. 
 Cortland. "Did his bombast frighten 
 you?" 
 
 "Komlossy never frightens me. He is 
 nothing but a tom-tom. He makes a great 
 deal of noise and people think he is very 
 terrible, but in reality he is merely dried-up 
 skin over emptiness." 
 
 General Lloyd smiled. 
 
 "You are belying your reputation, you 
 actually made an unkind remark about a 
 man behind his back. I dare you to repeat 
 it to his face." 
 
 "I accept the challenge. I would say 
 anything to Komlossy."
 
 io THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Well, here he comes." 
 
 The little Hungarian, followed by the 
 ex-secretary of embassy, made his way 
 through the crowd. 
 
 "Mrs. Cortland, may I introduce Mr. 
 Maitland?" he said when he reached her 
 side. "And General Lloyd, Mr. Mait 
 land." 
 
 "I am delighted to meet you," said Mrs. 
 Cortland. "I have heard of you so often. 
 Won't you sit down? There is room for one 
 more on this divan. As for you, Komlossy, 
 I have talked to you enough this even- 
 ing." 
 
 '"One moment, Komlossy," said Gen 
 eral Lloyd. "Mrs. Cortland has something 
 to say to you, something very disagree 
 able." 
 
 "Then I will not listen; I do not believe 
 Mrs. Cortland would say anything disagree 
 able, and if she did, I should not care to 
 hear it. Good-bye. I am going to talk to 
 the wives of my colleagues." 
 
 The Hungarian walked away abruptly, 
 and was soon lost in the crowd. 
 
 "What a grand thing a reputation is, 
 Mrs. Cortland," said General Lloyd.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS n 
 
 "Komlossy would not believe you called 
 him a tom-tom, even if you acknowledged 
 it." 
 
 "He was the tom-tom who was sounding 
 your praises, Mr. Maitland," she said 
 abruptly, scanning the man who had just 
 taken the seat beside her. 
 
 She did not like his face. His little 
 brown eyes set close together were cold 
 and selfish, and she thought his lips too 
 straight and thin ; but he was tall and dis 
 tinguished, and wore his clothes well. He 
 was decidedly 'good-looking and his manner 
 was a strange mixture of self-confidence 
 and obsequiousness. 
 
 "You have just come to Washington, I 
 believe," she said by way of opening the 
 conversation. 
 
 "Yes. I used to live here years ago. I 
 was four years in the State Department be 
 fore I went to France." 
 
 "Oh, then you know us thoroughly." 
 
 "One can never know Washington. It 
 is a kaleidoscope which shifts with every 
 change of politics." 
 
 "But surely you know many people?" 
 interrupted General Lloyd.
 
 12 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "No, only a few, mostly those whom I 
 have met in Paris." 
 
 "Well, everybody who is anybody is 
 out to-night," continued General Lloyd. 
 
 "Yes, Violet Duncan is a remarkable 
 girl," replied Mrs. Cortland. "She is 
 the success of this administration." 
 
 "Has not her father great influence with 
 the President?" asked Maitland. 
 
 "Yes, almost as much as General Lloyd." 
 
 "How absurd," said the General. "The 
 President and I are old friends, but I have 
 no influence with him." 
 
 "If I wished an appointment I should 
 beg for your support. If you refused I 
 should know that I had failed." 
 
 Mrs. Cortland saw the look of intense in 
 terest in Maitland 's eye. She smiled. 
 
 "You evidently want something, Mrs. 
 Cortland," laughed the General, rising from 
 his seat. " I am going before you compel 
 me to commit myself." 
 
 "Do not think you can escape me so 
 easily. I shall haunt yur hotel until I 
 have your endorsement." 
 
 "With that delightful prospect you will 
 never obtain it. The pleasure of seeing
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 13 
 
 you continuously would be too great to 
 lose." 
 
 "But, General, you do not know the will 
 of a persistent woman." 
 
 "You forget that I have been in politics 
 for thirty years, ' ' he said as he walked away. 
 
 Maitland's glance followed his retreating 
 form. 
 
 "Is he really so influential with the ad 
 ministration?" he asked. 
 
 "He thinks he is," she replied dryly 
 
 "Then you were merely flattering him." 
 
 "Not exactly. He has plenty of influ 
 ence in New York, and lots of money. He 
 practically controls the delegation of his 
 state, and is a power, if a cunning, cold, 
 selfish, unprincipled man can be a power." 
 
 "It is evident you do not like him." 
 
 "No, he is one of the few men whom I 
 despise." 
 
 "You are very severe." 
 
 "No, I am very just. General Lloyd 
 killed his wife by coldness and neglect. He 
 was overbearing, exacting and, cruel. He 
 treated her like an inferior. He neglected 
 her, too, but I assure you he never neglects 
 the wives of his friends. ' '
 
 14 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "But he is at least a man of the world," 
 said Maitland. 
 
 "Yes, his manners are irreproachable and 
 his morals irredeemable." 
 
 Maitland smiled. "Morality has sexual 
 variations," he said. "In a woman it is 
 honor, in a man honesty." 
 
 "Not exactly," she replied. "Honesty 
 is a term you men apply to your transac 
 tions with each other. Your treatment of 
 women is so universally dishonorable that 
 you do not consider it even worthy of 
 opprobrium." 
 
 "Really, Mrs. Cortland," he said, laugh 
 ing, "Your denunciation of my sex is so 
 absolute that a refutation appears useless. 
 I confess, however, that misanthropy was 
 the last sentiment I expected to find con 
 cealed beneath such a face as yours." 
 
 "A woman's face is invariably a mask for 
 her fancy. Like a court masker she can 
 only be recognized by her mouth." 
 
 "What a novel theory!" said Maitland 
 in an interested tone. "It might be possible 
 to tell a woman's age by her teeth I sup 
 pose, but to tell her character by her lips 
 that seems quite another thing."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 15 
 
 "But I am confident that a woman's 
 mouth is a true index to her motives." 
 
 "You must demonstrate your theory. 
 Now, Miss Duncan for instance. What 
 does her mouth indicate?" 
 
 Mrs. Cortland scrutinized the beautiful 
 face of the secretary's daughter. "At pres 
 ent her lips lack tenderness," she said; 
 "They are too firmly set. Love has not 
 closed her heart to ambition." 
 
 "But is she not cold by nature?" 
 
 "No, she is cold because she has not met 
 the man she can love." 
 
 "Who must possess the melting power of 
 a blast furnace I should say," replied Mait- 
 land doubtfully. 
 
 "No, I think that at heart Violet Dun 
 can is sincere." 
 
 "Sincere in everything but love." 
 
 "It is that which proves a woman's sin 
 cerity," replied Mrs. Cortland firmly. "A 
 sincere woman loves, a fickle woman loves 
 to love, and a selfish woman loves to be 
 loved." 
 
 "What an uncanny person you are. I 
 hope you cannot read men so clearly." 
 
 "All men are more or less alike. The
 
 16 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 only difference is that occasionally one has 
 a conscience." 
 
 Maitland laughed. "Then I suppose 
 you know me through and through by this 
 time. Tell me the worst, I pray." 
 
 "The worst is no worse than your repu 
 tation." 
 
 "That is insulting, or enigmatical, I 
 do n't know which." 
 
 "Then to be plainer I think a girl should 
 beware of you ; a married woman afraid of 
 you, and a widow a match for you not in 
 the matrimonial sense." 
 
 "What a hopelessly bad reputation I 
 must have." 
 
 "Is it undeserved?" she asked, looking 
 him straight in the face. 
 
 "A criminal is never obliged to convict 
 himself," he answered with a forced smile. 
 
 "Then, let us declare a truce. In the 
 meantime you may get me an ice." 
 
 A half hour later as Ritchie Maitland left 
 the house accompanied by Komlossy, he 
 turned to the little Hungarian and said: 
 ' ' What an unusual woman Mrs. Cortland is. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, she is like a porcupine. She needs 
 to be stroked the right way."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 17 
 
 "And if you arouse her," added Mait- 
 land, "she fairly bristles with stinging re 
 torts." 
 
 "I would rather have her friendship than 
 her love," replied Komlossy. "It would 
 last longer and wear better. ' ' 
 
 They walked a moment in silence, 
 quietly smoking their cigars. Maitland 
 was the first to speak. 
 
 "And Miss Duncan," he asked; "Why 
 has she never married?" 
 
 "She is too proud to marry for money 
 and too poor to marry for love." 
 
 "That is all very well while she has 
 power and admiration, but some day she 
 will need money." 
 
 "Then she will find a rich old man to 
 marry." 
 
 "And a poor young man to love?" 
 laughed Maitland. 
 
 The Hungarian shrugged his shoulders. 
 ' ' Quien sabef An American girl is some 
 times a "volcano, but more often a refrigera 
 tor." 
 
 They had reached the door of the club.
 
 II 
 
 " FRIENDSHIP 's FULL OF DREGS." 
 Timon of Athens, I. 2. 
 
 As the last carriage rolled away from the 
 secretary's house Violet Duncan dropped 
 wearily into the corner of a divan. Her 
 white shoulders sank into the soft cushions. 
 Jack Hardy, erect and military, stood be 
 side her, his powerful figure splendidly set 
 off by the blue and yellow uniform of the 
 cavalry arm. After the brilliance and bustle 
 of the official reception the drawing-room 
 seemed deserted and still. The secretary 
 had gone to the library to write. 
 
 Violet partly closed her eyes. The sol 
 dier watched her intently. He had a frank, 
 manly face with clear blue eyes and high 
 cheek bones. Under his sandy mustache, 
 almost white in contrast with the florid 
 cheeks, was a straight, determined mouth. 
 
 Violet half opened her eyes, and meeting 
 his glance, smiled in a listless way. 
 
 "Sit down, Jack, won't you," she said. 
 18
 
 
 ' VIOLET DUNCAN DROPPED WEARILY INTO THE CORNER OF A DIVAN.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 19 
 
 "I was waiting to say good-night." 
 
 "Do n't go yet." 
 
 "But you look tired." 
 
 "I never go to bed before Pater. He 
 might want something, you know," she an 
 swered, suppressing a yawn with her rin 
 gers. "Sit down and amuse me." 
 
 Hardy unclasped his sword, laid it across 
 a chair and took the seat beside her. 
 
 "Why were you looking at me so curi 
 ously?" she asked. "What were you 
 thinking about? Tell me." 
 
 "I was thinking that I would rather be a 
 beautiful girl of twenty-three than anything 
 in the world." 
 
 "At twenty-five you would wish you 
 were a man again." 
 
 "But to be absolutely admired as you 
 were to-night, that must be happiness. To 
 have that for even a year. What more could 
 one ask?" 
 
 "Contentment, Jack. There is no con 
 tentment in this life; it only hinders one 
 from finding it elsewhere." 
 
 "But one can 't live without adulation. 
 The more we despise it the more necessary 
 it becomes."
 
 20 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "That is a strange sentiment for you, 
 Jack." 
 
 "I know it," he said with a sigh. 
 
 "Then why do you try to be cynical?" 
 
 "I was trying to understand you, Violet. 
 You have changed so much during the past 
 few years. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, I can scarcely understand myself. 
 Do you remember those days in Springfield, 
 when Pater was governor of the state, and 
 you were detailed to inspect the militia?" 
 
 "Yes, you were only sixteen then." 
 
 "And how terribly provincial we were. 
 It gives me the horrors to think of us then. 
 Why, we dined at one o'clock and had tea 
 with jam and pickles and all kinds of horri 
 ble concoctions." 
 
 Hardy smiled. "And do French entries 
 make you any happier?" 
 
 "Yes. I honestly think I get as much 
 pleasure from the knowledge that we have 
 a good cook as I do from any one thing. I 
 can 't conceive of anything more mortifying 
 than the giving of bad dinners." 
 
 "Do you want me to think you are hope 
 lessly frivolous?" 
 
 "Do you know, Jack," she said looking
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 21 
 
 into his face; "I love to say things to 
 shock you. I have a feeling that you 
 do n't approve of me any more, and I take 
 a certain malicious joy in making you think 
 I am worse than I really am." 
 
 "I sometimes like to think of you as you 
 were," he replied. "Not that I disapprove 
 of you now, but I do n't quite understand 
 you. You seem completely absorbed with 
 the life here and to me it is so artificial and 
 unsatisfactory. The game is n't worth the 
 candle." 
 
 "But you don't understand the game, 
 Jack. The feverish excitement of it. It is 
 fascinating. There is nothing like it, play, 
 continuous play, night and day, manoeuvr 
 ing, scheming, checkmating. The stakes 
 are success. To win one must be always in 
 the game ; to drop out for a moment means 
 ruin. All other games are insipid." 
 
 For a moment Hardy was silent. 
 
 "I suppose the frontier is the place for 
 me," he said, finally. 
 
 "Jack, do you know what you need?" 
 
 "A good shaking?" 
 
 "No, marching orders. You ought to 
 be sent back to the frontier, to some one-
 
 22 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 company post. After you had lived in an 
 adobe hut for a few years, with nobody to 
 talk to but greasers and Indians, you would 
 begin to think you had made a mistake in 
 despising society. I have a mind to per 
 suade Pater to send you." 
 
 Hardy laughed. "Perhaps you are right, 
 but am I any more inconsistent than you? 
 A moment ago you said that all society did 
 was to prevent you from finding content 
 ment elsewhere." 
 
 "But who is contented? We all have 
 our ideals of happiness. The realization 
 never comes. Pleasure is not a bad substi 
 tute." 
 
 "You do n't believe your own pessim 
 ism, ' ' he said firmly. ' ' It has a hollow ring. 
 
 "Why say that?" 
 
 "Because I believe in you." 
 
 "Your faith is stronger than mine," she 
 said with a sigh. "I have no confidence in 
 myself. I often wonder what will become 
 of me. We have two years more in office, 
 but what then? I could not go back to 
 Illinois." 
 
 "There is always the possibility of mar 
 riage."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 23 
 
 "No," she said, shaking her head doubt 
 fully; "I cannot think of myself as a mar 
 ried woman, not for a long time at least." 
 
 "But to follow out your doctrines, mar 
 riage would be the next logical move. At 
 least with a rich man." 
 
 "No, Jack, I don't think I could marry 
 a man I did not love." 
 
 He smiled. "You see I am making you 
 prove the falseness of your faith." 
 
 "But I could not marry a poor man even 
 if I loved him." 
 
 "You say that because you have never 
 been in love." 
 
 "I was almost in love with you once, be 
 fore we became such thorough friends." 
 
 "Yes, time strengthens friendship." 
 
 "And weakens love," she laughed. 
 "Love is born suddenly, friendship grows 
 by degrees." 
 
 "But cannot love grow slowly also?" he 
 asked, looking into her face, anxiously. 
 
 "That is too much like friendship to be 
 love. Love comes without deliberation." 
 
 He left his seat and paced the floor 
 slowly. "I wonder what the man you 
 will love is like," he said. "It will be
 
 24 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 hard for me to have this this friendship of 
 ours end." 
 
 She laughed. "Do n't worry, Jack. The 
 beginning of the end is not yet." 
 
 "But what you call love comes sud 
 denly." 
 
 "Yes, unless I could feel the violence of 
 love I should not know I was in love." 
 
 "The violence of love is its bitterness." 
 
 "Jack, you talk strangely to-night," she 
 said. "What is the matter? There must 
 be something, you have been so moody 
 lately." 
 
 He laughed cynically. "Yes, there is 
 something," he said. 
 
 "Then tell me." 
 
 "You are the last person in the world to 
 whom I would tell it." 
 
 She met his glance, then turned her eyes 
 away. 
 
 He paced the floor deliberately. 
 
 "Good-night," he said abruptly; "I am 
 going." 
 
 Without speaking, he took his sword 
 from the chair and walked into the hall. 
 Violet followed and stood in the door. 
 
 "Jack," she said as he threw his military
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 25 
 
 cloak about his shoulders, "friendship is 
 rarer than love, and more satisfactory." 
 
 "And does one exclude the other?" 
 
 "Yes, love begins with love." 
 
 Hardy took her hand and held it. 
 "Good-night, Violet; good-night," was all 
 he said. She felt the tremor of his hand. 
 
 He opened the great hall door, a cold 
 blast chilled Violet's shoulders. The door 
 closed with a jar, his sword clicked on the 
 stone steps, then all was silent. 
 
 For a time she stood with her hands 
 tightly clasped together. Then tears glis 
 tened in her eyes. She buried her face in 
 her hands and wept. "I wish I could love 
 him," she cried; "I wish I could."
 
 Ill 
 
 "AT THE LATTER END OF A DINNER." 
 
 Airs Well that ends Well, II. 3. 
 
 Mrs. Cortland's Sunday dinners were 
 never dull. 
 
 They were always small, never too long, 
 and the guests were chosen with unerring 
 tact. She abhorred functions, so the few 
 officials who came on these occasions 
 were invited as friends, not as function 
 aries. Mrs. Cortland was a leader of 
 the exclusive set which boasted that but 
 six senators and three congressmen were 
 admitted within its folds. The number of 
 cabinet ministers was proportionately large, 
 but the administration was popular socially, 
 as some of the so-called "cabinet ladies " 
 entertained delightfully. None, however, 
 was more popular than Violet Duncan. 
 She was universally acknowledged to be the 
 success of the administration. Violet had 
 a standing dinner engagement with Mrs. 
 Cortland for each alternate Sunday until 
 26
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 27 
 
 Lent. This was irrefutable testimony of 
 her popularity. 
 
 As Violet entered Mrs. Cortland's draw 
 ing-room the Sunday following her own 
 reception she cast a hurried glance about 
 the room. Weazen Komlossy was almost 
 eclipsed on a distant divan by two matrons 
 of bulging proportions. He always made 
 it a point to talk to the women who enter 
 tain, before dinner, so that after dinner he 
 might devote himself to the women who 
 amuse. 
 
 Mrs. Jack Elliott, a very pretty, very 
 frivolous woman of twenty-five, was sur 
 rounded by a group of young secretaries 
 and attache's, who laughed at her flighty 
 remarks and paid her the extravagant com 
 pliments she courted. In a darkened cor 
 ner Dick Willing, a good-looking, impe 
 cunious clerk in the State Department 
 whom every girl liked, but none wanted to 
 marry, was looking into the eyes of a young 
 heiress to millions. This called forth sin 
 ister glances from the dark face of Count 
 Joam de Albuquerque, the Portuguese sec 
 retary, whose monthly custom was to lay 
 his title at the feet of this girl, with pro-
 
 28 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 testations of affection on his lips and pre 
 dilections for the millions in his heart. 
 
 The hostess was talking to Ritchie Mait- 
 land. She had met him again at dinner the 
 night before and had invited him verbally. 
 A new man was always an addition. There 
 were sixteen people in all, and Violet was 
 the last to arrive. 
 
 "I fear I am horribly late," she said, as 
 she extended her hand to Mrs. Cortland ; 
 "I have n't a rational excuse either." 
 
 " Never mind, dear; punctuality is the 
 thief of time. What a lovely gown you 
 have, but you make any gown look lovely. 
 Of course you know Mr. Maitland," she 
 added, turning to her companion; ''he sits 
 next you at dinner, but I warn you not to 
 believe a word he says. These diplomats, 
 you know." 
 
 "Diplomacy, I believe, is the art of dis 
 sembling graciously," said Violet, address 
 ing Maitland. 
 
 "Having left the service I shall not at 
 tempt to dissemble my admiration, Miss 
 Duncan." 
 
 "Nor I my anxiety. I have heard that 
 you are atrociously critical. Is it not true.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 29 
 
 Mrs. Cortland?" she asked, turning to the 
 hostess. 
 
 "Mr. Maitland discriminates before dis 
 paraging, so you have nothing to fear, my 
 dear." 
 
 "Dinner is served, madam," said a sleek, 
 imperturbable servant who had approached 
 noiselessly. 
 
 At her Sunday dinners Mrs. Cortland 
 disregarded official precedence as far as pos 
 sible, and as the informality of these occa 
 sions was generally understood, an ambas 
 sador considered himself fortunate if placed 
 between two debutantes. 
 
 On reaching the dining-room Violet found 
 herself between Komlossy and Maitland. 
 This arrangement pleased her. Maitland 
 was a novelty and, if he bored her, the little 
 Hungarian was always a tonic. She had 
 felt decidedly depressed all day. Sunday 
 was always unsatisfactory. She looked for 
 ward to it as a day of rest, but she was 
 usually overwhelmed with visitors, or when 
 it rained, as it had that day, she was bored 
 by solitude. But the sight of Mrs. Cort- 
 land's table revived her spirits. The can 
 dles, the silver, the harmonious color
 
 30 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 scheme of the decorations all combined to 
 put her in a better humor, and she glanced 
 about at the women's gowns with the grati 
 fying consciousness that no one was better 
 dressed than she. 
 
 "Have you taken them all in, Miss Dun 
 can?" said Maitland, who had been watch 
 ing her. 
 
 "Yes, I think I have." 
 
 "Then you can tell me who are wearing 
 last year's gowns made over." 
 
 "That can be easily told by the expres 
 sion of a woman's face. There is a self- 
 consciousness in the possession of a new 
 dress that few can disguise." 
 
 "Then there is something beside love 
 which a woman's face cannot dissemble." 
 
 ' ' But a woman can always conceal love 
 when it suits her purpose." 
 
 "Not from the man she loves." 
 
 Violet laughed. "What a thoroughly 
 conceited member of your sex you must 
 be." 
 
 "You misunderstand me. I am merely 
 talking theoretically, not from experience." 
 
 "I suppose you wish me to believe that 
 you are one of those insufferable men
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 31 
 
 who insist that they have never been in 
 love." 
 
 "On the contrary I have never been 
 loved." 
 
 "How fulsomely modest." 
 
 Maitland sipped his sherry. "One must 
 love several times before learning how to 
 win love." 
 
 "So you think you are a master of the 
 art." 
 
 "I am confident of it," he said half 
 laughing. 
 
 Violet looked into his face. His assur 
 ance was so good-natured and preposterous 
 that it was scarcely definable as conceit. 
 
 "You must tell me your modus oper- 
 andi," she said; "then I shall know how to 
 guard myself against such fascinators as 
 you." 
 
 "That is exactly what I do not intend to 
 do." 
 
 "And why?" said Violet, arching her 
 eyebrows, inquisitively. 
 
 "Because I am firmly convinced that I 
 shall fall in love with you." 
 
 "How delightful! then I shall have the 
 amusement of disproving your theory."
 
 32 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "On the contrary I expect you to demon 
 strate it. You must admit that I play 
 fair. ' ' 
 
 "You are certainly abrupt, but I am 
 tempted to think you impertinent," said 
 Violet turning towards Komlossy. 
 
 Maitland laughed. 
 
 "You are a colossal fraud," she said to 
 the Hungarian. "I saw you before dinner, 
 wedged in between Mrs. Rivers and Mrs. 
 Love, smiling at both of them. Did you 
 pick up an invitation or two?" 
 
 The minister laughed with a little chuckle 
 like the cackle of a hen. "What a mind 
 reader you are. Now to confess the truth 
 I had an evening disengaged next week, 
 and I had to do something. I cannot dine 
 alone, it bores me." 
 
 "And now you will have the distin 
 guished honor of meeting me at Mrs. Rivers 
 on Thursday evening at half after eight." 
 
 "Precisely. Was it not worth while? 
 Mrs. Rivers is a worthy soul, and her cook 
 is divine." 
 
 "She is a widow, Komlossy; you might 
 marry her for the sake of the cook. ' ' 
 
 The diplomat made a wry face.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 33 
 
 "To see her every day would destroy my 
 appetite ; then I could no longer appreciate 
 the cook." 
 
 "But I honestly think it time for you to 
 marry some one." 
 
 "Alas, yes, but I grow more particular 
 and less desirable every day." 
 
 "I should like to see you married, it 
 would be such sport." 
 
 "Mademoiselle, for woman marriage is 
 inevitable, for man it is insanity." 
 
 "There is evidently insanity in your 
 father's family. Take care, it may break 
 out suddenly in a violent form, such as Mrs. 
 Rivers, or her cook." 
 
 "If ever I marry it will be with a cook. 
 Then I may scold her as much as I please 
 and she cannot give warning." 
 
 "A case of connubial bluster for culinary 
 bliss." 
 
 "Exactly, and speaking of matrimony 
 that reminds me that I had a long argu 
 ment with a woman last week as to whether 
 you would eventually make a permanent 
 alliance with the war department." 
 
 "How preposterous," laughed Violet; 
 "and which side did you take."
 
 34 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "The affirmative." 
 
 ''I thought you were more discerning 
 than that." 
 
 "I based my argument on the fact that a 
 woman almost invariably marries the wrong 
 man, and that persistence accomplishes 
 more than perfection." 
 
 "If ever I marry it will be without pre 
 meditation," said Violet, thoughtfully. 
 "Should I take time to think, I could not 
 do it." 
 
 "Let me make a prophesy. You will 
 marry within a year. At present you do not 
 love the man you expect to marry, nor do 
 you expect to marry the man you love." 
 
 "In the name of goodness talk to your 
 neighbor," said Violet. "You are posi 
 tively insane." 
 
 "I am a clairvoyant, mademoiselle. I 
 am never mistaken, but I obey, and here 
 with offer my scintillant wit at the more 
 appreciative shrine of Miss Birdie Day. 
 Au revoir." 
 
 Komlossy turned away abruptly, and had 
 soon engaged his neighbor in conversation. 
 
 For a while Violet ate in silence. Mait- 
 land was talking earnestly to buxom old
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 35 
 
 Mrs. Love, whose gown was so tight that 
 it crackled every time she breathed. Violet 
 wondered why so few women know how to 
 grow old gracefully. 
 
 Then she thought of Jack Hardy. He 
 despised the great world for its insincerity. 
 To her, human nature was the same in any 
 sphere. People were heartless, cold, and 
 selfish in Springfield as they were in Wash 
 ington. The proportion of genuineness 
 was much the same, if anything, greater in 
 the society which was not stinted by nar 
 row-mindedness and bigotry. Jack Hardy 
 was a visionary. His world of honest men 
 and noble women was an Utopia, therefore 
 the true solution was to take the world as 
 it is. Be exalted and bored by the good, 
 amused and shocked by the bad. Her phi 
 losophy was live and let live. None was all 
 bad, none all good. The greatest altruism 
 was amusement, and boredom the most 
 stupid egoism. The only way to be happy 
 was to be amused, and the only way to be 
 amused was to keep from being bored. She 
 loved society because society was amusing. 
 Provincialism was the essence of stupidity, 
 but wilfully to prefer provincialism as Jack
 
 36 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 would have her do, was little short of in 
 sanity. She smiled at her own logic. It 
 was so thoroughly the logic of youth. 
 
 ''Won't you let me share that thought?" 
 said Maitland, who for a moment had been 
 watching her intently. 
 
 "No, it is too sincere for your apprecia 
 tion." 
 
 "Do you think me wholly insincere 
 then?" 
 
 "I scarcely know you, Mr. Maitland." 
 
 "The sincerity of a man, Miss Duncan, 
 depends upon the woman he first loves sin 
 cerely. ' ' 
 
 "That is just like a man. A woman 
 must be held responsible for his lack 
 of character. But I think it depends 
 on his mother rather than his sweet 
 heart." 
 
 "I am glad you are so skeptical, you 
 afford such a delightful field for the propa 
 gandist." 
 
 "Ah, but remember it is far easier to 
 proselytise a heathen than an atheist. You 
 see I do not believe in any god in the 
 shape of man." 
 
 "Then I shall make you believe in me."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 37 
 
 "A boastful threat, indeed; how will you 
 begin?" 
 
 "I shall begin by asking you to pass me 
 those almonds." 
 
 "Which task I perform complacently," 
 said Violet, placing a silver dish before 
 him. 
 
 "Good, obedience is a tenet of every 
 belief." 
 
 "Ah, but a woman is often obedient to 
 the man she hates, and obdurate to him she 
 loves." 
 
 Maitland played with the stem of his 
 glass. "After all," he said, "it is absurd to 
 deliberate about love. Love is spontane 
 ous." 
 
 "That is a creed after my own heart," 
 said Violet enthusiastically; "I have often 
 said that if ever I love it will be without 
 intention." 
 
 "I imagine," Maitland said softly, "that 
 those you might have loved have been too 
 persistent. They have wearied you by 
 much loving, they have wearied you by 
 much servility. Is it not so?" 
 
 "Yes," Violet answered thoughtfully. 
 
 For a moment Maitland was silent. "Do
 
 38 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 you believe in palmistry, Miss Duncan?" 
 he said finally. 
 
 "Only partially. I think the hand shows 
 one's breeding rather more than one's char 
 acter." 
 
 "I should like to tell your hand ; perhaps 
 I might convert you?" 
 
 "That word, 'perhaps,' implies doubt. I 
 thought your self-confidence was un 
 bounded." 
 
 Maitland smiled. "The only doubt I 
 feel is lest you should not permit me to 
 make the attempt." 
 
 "Then I set your doubt at rest. You 
 may come to-morrow at five if you will." 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 The guests were leaving the table. Kom- 
 lossy walked with Violet to the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 "You must beware of Mr. Maitland," he 
 said as he was leaving her; "he is a danger 
 ous man." 
 
 "Really," said Violet. 
 
 "I have warned you," said the little 
 Magyar. Then he wandered to the smok 
 ing-room, where a group of men were
 
 MAITLANP SAT APART, QUIKTI.V SMOKING HIS CIGAK.'
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 39 
 
 ajready discussing the Peruvian difficulty 
 and the policy of the government. 
 
 Maitland sat apart quietly smoking his 
 cigar. He was thinking over the conversa 
 tion he had had with Violet. "She is a 
 clever girl," he thought, "and beautiful; 
 what a pity she is poor." Then a remark 
 he overheard attracted his attention. 
 
 "I tell you Duncan is the power of this 
 administration," said the speaker. "The 
 President does nothing without consulting 
 him." 
 
 "I must have Secretary Duncan's sup 
 port," he thought, "and the winning of it 
 will not be uninteresting."
 
 IV 
 
 " IN THE PALM OF THE HAND." 
 Comedy of Errors, III. 2. 
 
 Love is sometimes a question of prefer 
 ence, more often of predicament. Had 
 Violet remained in Springfield she would 
 undoubtedly have fallen in love with Jack 
 Hardy. He was a cut above the Spring 
 field youth, and she was thrown with him 
 constantly. But her father's term of office 
 expired when she was seventeen and then 
 she was taken to Europe by her mother for 
 two years of travel. 
 
 Jack Hardy went back to his regiment, 
 and amid the sterile influences of a frontier 
 post, Violet was the one memory he cher 
 ished. In Europe Violet met many men, 
 and Jack Hardy became one of many 
 memories. That was the difference. 
 
 It is a dangerous moment in an Ameri 
 can girl's life when she discovers the pro 
 vincialism of her nearest relatives and 
 friends. Flushed with the first enthusiasm 
 40
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 41 
 
 of a superficial cosmopolitanism, acquired by 
 a cursory contact with European life, she 
 becomes to a certain degree a fanatic. Her 
 family and friends appear to her eyes un 
 gainly heretics to be converted to the re 
 fined tenets of the cosmopolitan creed. 
 Their accent, the harsh tones of their voices, 
 their clothes, completely dwarf their char 
 acters, and howsoever sterling the qualities 
 of their natures may be, they become un 
 sympathetic and unendurable through the 
 heinous fault of provincialism. 
 
 Violet's snobbery, if such it might be 
 called, was induced by the suddenness with 
 which she realised the shortcomings of her 
 family and friends. She went to Europe at 
 an impressionable age, imbued with all the 
 prejudices and provincialisms of an Ameri 
 can town. At first she affected to despise 
 the effete mannerisms of a decaying civiliza 
 tion, but unconsciously her eyes were 
 opened to a sense of her own shortcomings. 
 There was a sharp pang of mortification, a 
 realisation of her imperfection, and then 
 she set to work studiously to undo the past. 
 She trained her voice to a softer inflexion, 
 she studied the accent of each word she
 
 42 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 spoke, and the result was a careful though 
 somewhat apparent imitation. 
 
 Mrs. Duncan died shortly after she re 
 turned to America. She had been a quiet, 
 unassuming woman, who had entered her 
 daughter's life rather negatively. Violet's 
 ambitions were beyond her mother's com 
 prehension. Mrs. Duncan idolized but 
 never understood her daughter, so the two 
 women shared each other's love but not 
 each other's sympathy. Her mother's 
 death consequently was a blow from which 
 Violet recovered. She experienced a vague 
 sorrow rather than a distinct loss, but the 
 year of mourning was dreary and difficult. 
 
 Violet had outgrown her old friends and 
 there were no new ones to be made in 
 Springfield. Solitude was her only re 
 source, and with the solitude came a restless 
 longing for excitement. She read Euro 
 pean papers and European books, and tried 
 to imagine herself far removed from her 
 surroundings. The result was ineffable 
 boredom, that curse of super-civilized wom 
 anhood. 
 
 She corresponded occasionally with Jack 
 Hardy. His letters were toned with an in-
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 43 
 
 comprehensible optimism. How could one 
 find contentment at Fort Niobrara? she 
 wondered. 
 
 The presidential campaign developed 
 a new interest. Her father entered heart 
 and soul into politics and she shared his 
 enthusiasm. He "stumped the state " in 
 the interests of his party, and she accom 
 panied him to the "hustings," to transplant 
 an Anglican expression. Among the 
 grangers of the "Egypt " district she found 
 some diversion. They at least were not 
 commonplace. Originality, however crude 
 the form, is diverting, and Violet was vastly 
 amused by the quaint farmers of Southern 
 Illinois. Their homely intelligence, their 
 curious speech, their political fervor, all ap 
 pealed to her, and for the moment she for 
 got herself. 
 
 Then came the election and with it the 
 triumph of her party. Governor Duncan 
 was the leader in Illinois, and was spoken 
 of prominently for a cabinet position. Vio 
 let's anxiety became intense, but her father 
 took the matter philosophically. He had 
 won the state for his party, and felt entitled 
 to the reward. But presidents are pro-
 
 44 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 verbially ungrateful, so he asked and ex 
 pected nothing. Violet urged her father to 
 manipulate the wires at his command. He 
 stoically refused, saying that his record was 
 thoroughly known. His appointment 
 would be "good politics " and importunity 
 would merely weaken his position. 
 
 Finally, with the inauguration of the 
 President came the announcement of the 
 cabinet and the realisation of Violet's 
 hopes. With the keenness of a liberated 
 prisoner she breathed the free air of the 
 world again. No more of the restrictions 
 of Springfield, but Washington with all its 
 kaleidoscopic brilliancy. 
 
 Social Washington has a tangent. It is 
 the long line of official receptions where the 
 bureaucratic and aristocratic circles touch 
 but do not intersect. The wife of the 
 country congressman who fancies that her 
 husband's election to the house secures for 
 her a seat in society is liable to disappoint 
 ment, for in Washington, as elsewhere in 
 America, society considers the brilliancy of 
 a man an acquisition, but the good breed 
 ing of his wife is a necessity. 
 
 In Europe a woman may take rank from
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 45 
 
 her husband, but in America a husband 
 takes social rank from his wife. Society is 
 an oligarchy of, for, and by the women. 
 The men admitted are of but two kinds, 
 those who pay attention and those who pay 
 bills. The former must be attractive, the 
 latter merely the husbands of attractive 
 women. This feminine oligarchy exists in 
 Washington as it does elsewhere in Amer 
 ica. Officialism has nothing to do with it. 
 The officials who are invited within its folds 
 are chosen by virtue of their wives, not 
 their offices. 
 
 Violet was readily accepted by the Wash- 
 ingtonians. She was beautiful; she had 
 learned the signs and passwords of society 
 in Europe, and her father was Secretary of 
 War. Money is fortunately less of a social 
 requisite in Washington than elsewhere in 
 America; brains are even a recommenda 
 tion, so that Violet's quick intelligence and 
 rare tact were readily appreciated. At last 
 she was in her element. Society became 
 her passion. 
 
 Jack Hardy, called to fill a post in the 
 War Department, stood by and watched 
 the development of the woman he loved.
 
 46 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 He watched her grow in beauty, tact and 
 intelligence; he admired the consummate 
 skill with which she won and held her 
 supremacy, but he knew that she was 
 drifting far away from him. Yet she 
 charmed and fascinated him, and while dis 
 approving most his love was strongest. He 
 watched her with the jealous eye of a lover, 
 but never uttered a word of love. All the 
 world knew his secret but he fancied that it 
 was buried deep in his breast. He was 
 content for the time with the privileges of a 
 friendship he dared not break. Jack Hardy 
 was sincere and manly, but he lacked sub 
 tlety and dash he lacked the power to 
 charm. 
 
 On the afternoon following Mrs. Cort- 
 land's dinner Violet was sitting in her draw 
 ing-room, idly scanning the pages of a 
 French novel. She was expecting Ritchie 
 Maitland, and occasionally her thoughts 
 turned to him. She confessed that 
 he was an enigma. She did not exactly 
 like him, but he interested her. She 
 was sure he was insincere, but he was in 
 scrutable, that meant that he was worth 
 studying. The book in her lap was Paul
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 47 
 
 Bourget's "Un Cceur de Femme." As 
 she ran over the pages she wondered if 
 Maitland were not such a man as Casal a 
 magnetic creature, whose power lay in his 
 boldness, who was selfish even in love. 
 Perhaps. 
 
 A servant entered and announced "Mr. 
 Maitland." 
 
 Violet glanced up languidly. 
 
 He is good-looking, she thought, thor 
 oughly groomed, thoroughly self-possessed. 
 His hair was too smoothly brushed. She 
 felt a desire to rumple it. 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. Maitland?" she 
 said, extending her hand. 
 
 "I am rather seedy. I met some old 
 colleagues at the club last night ; we talked 
 until four this morning." 
 
 "How stupid." 
 
 "Yes, I just got up in time to call on 
 Mrs. Cortland, and come here." 
 
 "How very prompt you are. Was it 
 necessary to see her to-day?" 
 
 "No, but it is a continental habit to pay 
 for a dinner immediately with a pasteboard, 
 and start again with a clean score." 
 
 "Was she at home?"
 
 48 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Very much at home. There was an 
 ambassador there, not to mention a minis 
 ter or two, and a number of humbler satel 
 lites like myself." 
 
 "Mrs. Cortland is an amusing woman ; 
 her originality is refreshing." 
 
 "Yes, to me she is about as refreshing as 
 a summer drink. She is very cool and she 
 makes me hot." 
 
 "You do not like her," said Violet. 
 
 "On the contrary she does not like me." 
 
 "She has never spoken ill of you to me." 
 
 "But my intuition in such matters is in 
 fallible." ' 
 
 "Which reminds me," said Violet, tak 
 ing a paper knife from the table and play 
 ing with it, "of your boasted infallibility as 
 a chiromancer." 
 
 "Yes, palmistry is my religion. I even 
 go to the scriptures for its tenets." 
 
 "How perfectly absurd," said Violet. 
 
 "Not at all. In Proverbs there is a line 
 which says, 'Length of days is in her right 
 hand, riches and honor in her left,' and in 
 Samuel, 'What evil is in my hand?' ' 
 
 "There must be some good in it if it has 
 made you read the Bible," laughed Violet.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 49 
 
 "Let me see your hand, perhaps I can 
 convince you." 
 
 Violet, smiling incredulously, put out her 
 hand. 
 
 Maitland examined it minutely, the for 
 mation, the shape of the fingers, the text 
 ure, nothing escaped his careful glance. 
 
 "Now the right hand," he said after a 
 few moments of careful study. 
 
 Violet watched his face. He was evi 
 dently deeply absorbed and serious. 
 
 "Well," she said finally, "aren't you 
 going to tell me anything?" 
 
 "I have to study the hands carefully to 
 see how one characteristic affects another. 
 For instance you have what is called the 
 conic hand. That means that you are im 
 pulsive, artistic, and fond of luxury. You 
 are essentially emotional, but that is coun 
 teracted to a great extent by your splendid 
 will power." 
 
 "Where do you find that?" 
 
 "In the thumb. The thumb individu 
 alizes a person. Yours shows that you are 
 often able to control your natural impulses." 
 
 He then examined her fingers. "Your 
 fingers are long," he said. "Long-fingered
 
 50 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 people are exact in matters of dress, care 
 ful about the amenities of life, extremely 
 fond of detail. They worry over little 
 things, and are apt to be affected." 
 
 ."I am glad to know I am affected. 
 What else that is awful do you find?" said 
 Violet, rather resentfully. 
 
 "I find that you are independent in 
 thought, extremely proud, and very am 
 bitious; all that is in the fingers, they bend 
 back, too, which means that you are affable 
 and clever, a success socially, I should 
 say." 
 
 "But the lines of the hand, you have said 
 nothing about them yet?" 
 
 "But I have looked at them," smiled 
 Maitland. "Before I get through I shall 
 know you more intimately than you know 
 yourself." 
 
 "What a horrible prospect," she said, 
 pretending to stifle a yawn. One's self is, 
 however, invariably an attractive topic, and 
 Violet was no exception to the rule. She 
 was intensely interested in what Maitland 
 was saying. Her languid manner was as 
 sumed. 
 
 "How thoroughly ambitious you are,"
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 51 
 
 said Maitland smiling, "and yet how thor 
 oughly feminine at heart. This mount at the 
 base of the first finger, the mount of Jupi 
 ter, is strangely developed, there is the am 
 bition, pride and love of power again, but 
 the line of the heart is deep, clear and well 
 colored. It rises too in Jupiter and runs 
 to the side of the hand. Yes, you are 
 capable of great love and jealousy. Your 
 life will be a struggle between pride and 
 love." 
 
 "And of course love will conquer. It 
 always does." 
 
 Maitland smiled. "You have not been 
 in love yet, nothing more than a flirtation 
 or two." 
 
 "That is the first true thing you have 
 said." 
 
 "But love is coming, and that very soon. 
 I see two breaks in the heart line. You 
 will have two disappointments in love, one 
 through folly or caprice, the other through 
 pride." 
 
 "Will the gentleman be dark or fair?" 
 Violet asked, sarcastically. 
 
 "One of them will give you trouble 
 enough. See that line here on Mars, run-
 
 52 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 ning down into the life line ; he will make 
 the running hard." 
 
 "Do I marry him?" 
 
 "No, but there are two of them, you 
 know. The first disappointment will be 
 through your own folly. A man will jilt 
 you I should say." 
 
 "That is comforting. And the second?" 
 
 "There pride steps in. It is probably 
 revenge for the first. You may become 
 engaged to a man you do not love." 
 
 Violet was silent a moment. 
 
 "I think you are clever," she said, 
 finally, "as an observer of character, but I 
 do not believe that you can predict the 
 future." 
 
 "Time will tell. For my part I believe 
 it fully." 
 
 "And your own hand?" she asked. 
 
 "No one has ever studied my hand. It 
 is bad, very bad." 
 
 "You might show me, you know I do not 
 believe." 
 
 Maitland hesitated a moment, then he 
 turned his palm so that she might see the 
 lines. 
 
 "But I know nothing."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 53 
 
 "Would you have me show myself up?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 He laughed curiously. "There," he 
 said, "is my heart line. It rises in Saturn, 
 is short and high in hand; it is thin and 
 pale, and the head line rises towards it 
 almost joining it. That all means that I 
 am cold, selfish and designing, that my 
 head governs my heart, and that I shall 
 never experience genuine love." 
 
 "And I think none the less of you," 
 said Violet. "You are too frank to be self 
 ish and designing." 
 
 "I am selfish," he said bitterly. "I 
 have had enough hard knocks to make me 
 so." 
 
 Violet looked at him quizzically. "You 
 impress me as a person to whom everything 
 comes," she said. "Your manner is confi 
 dent. You have faith in your own power. 
 Such people always succeed." 
 
 "You are clever, " he said slowly, looking 
 into her eyes. 
 
 "No, I am merely observant." 
 
 "Which is all there is to cleverness." 
 
 "No, sometimes it is the gift of express 
 ing platitudes picturesquely."
 
 54 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 Maitland laughed. 
 
 "All of which leads to nothing or means 
 nothing," he said. "What were we talk 
 ing about?" 
 
 "Yourself. How did you digress?" 
 
 "Because the subject was distasteful." 
 
 "Most men adore talking about them 
 selves." 
 
 "Or rather their love affairs. I am 
 different, because I have had none. I 
 would prefer talking about you, or on 
 second thought, I should prefer to go. 
 You as a subject are too absorbing, I might 
 outstay my welcome." 
 
 "Yes, you would better not talk about 
 me," she said; "I have no patience with 
 men who talk about me to my face, and no 
 respect for those who talk about me behind 
 my back." 
 
 "How cruel," he said, leaving his seat. 
 "When I am with you I must confine my 
 admiration to my eyes, and when I am 
 away I must keep it entirely in my thoughts. 
 That is a difficult task." 
 
 "And I am an exacting task master." 
 
 "Take care," he said, laughingly, "the
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 55 
 
 more exacting you are the more I shall care 
 for you." 
 
 "I might even endure that if you are 
 sufficiently devoted." 
 
 "That I will never be," said Maitland. 
 "Women despise devoted men." 
 
 Violet did not reply. She looked 
 thoughtfully at the floor. She was think 
 ing of Jack Hardy. 
 
 "Good-bye," said Maitland, extending 
 his hand. 
 
 "Good-bye," she answered rather sud 
 denly. 
 
 "Remember all I have told you," he said 
 holding her hand for a moment. "The 
 unhappiness is coming very soon. Your 
 own folly will bring it. You see I have 
 warned you." 
 
 ' ' Yes, but what use is a warning ? One acts 
 from impulse, warnings only frighten one." 
 
 "Then be very frightened," he answered, 
 taking a step towards the door, "that may 
 avert the evil." 
 
 "But if it is fate?" she said tossing back 
 her head suddenly. 
 
 He did not hear. He had gone.
 
 V 
 
 "THEIR PURPOSE is TO PARLE, TO COURT AND 
 DANCE." 
 
 Love's Labour 's Lost, V. 2. 
 
 The Honorable Silas Smith was a West 
 ern senator whose favorite haunt was Cham 
 berlain's. He wore sleek broadcloth 
 clothes and a slouch hat; his chin was 
 ornamented with a tuft of scraggy gray 
 whiskers and his watch was guarded by a 
 massive gold chain. A well chewed cigar 
 was ever between his lips, and his hands 
 were ever in his pockets. He had been an 
 early settler, and he was the richest man in 
 his state, two necessary elements of popu 
 larity with Western legislatures. As long 
 as he continued to act as the attorney for 
 his state without regard to the interests of 
 the nation at large, and to tap his "barrel " 
 on demand, he had reasonable hopes of re 
 taining his seat in the senate until decrepi 
 tude should force his retirement. 
 
 Silas Smith had but two passions, adula- 
 56
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 57 
 
 tion and poker. He delighted in the con 
 sideration of his fellow-men. He was in his 
 own opinion a man of national importance, 
 representing a great commonwealth, and the 
 true senatorial dignity was never absent 
 from his manner, unless perhaps when he 
 was gathered with a few boon colleagues 
 about a green-covered table ; and the sena 
 torial game was at its height. Then he 
 was in his element. Perhaps he actually 
 forgot the existence of Mrs. Silas Smith, a 
 difficult task for a man so much married. 
 
 "Mrs. Senator Smith," as the society re 
 porters persisted in calling her, in direct 
 defiance of titular usage, was a snappy lit 
 tle woman with tightly-drawn skin and 
 little piercing eyes, who spent the greater 
 portion of her life in fluttering in and out 
 of official drawing-rooms on the official after 
 noons at home. Her wizened face, with 
 its sharp outlines and ringlets of gray hair 
 plastered on the sallow forehead, was every 
 where present. She had few friends, but 
 she had built a palace in Dupont Circle 
 and her only daughter had just made her 
 bow to society. Mrs. Smith had been per 
 sistent in her efforts, and people were begin-
 
 58 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 ning to treat her with some consideration. 
 She was often met in unofficial drawing- 
 rooms, and the smart young diplomats and 
 department clerks began to include her in 
 their round of Sunday calls, while Phoebe 
 Smith, the daughter, was invited every 
 where. 
 
 Miss Smith was one of those mouse-like 
 girls who steal in and out of a room so 
 quietly that their presence is unnoticed ; an 
 inoffensive person, whom it was difficult to 
 recognize except by her gowns, and as she 
 changed these frequently, she was being con 
 tinually forgotten by the people she had 
 met. However, she was often asked to 
 dance by the young men, who were able to 
 remember her, and her admiring mother 
 considered her a great social success. 
 
 Perhaps the senator's millions were an 
 item not lost sight of by the dancing men. 
 It was even rumored that one or two of 
 them had asked her hand in marriage. At 
 least they no longer asked her to dance. 
 Mrs. Smith, however, had great aspirations 
 for Phoebe; a department clerk was not to 
 be considered. 
 
 It was a master-stroke of diplomacy which
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 59 
 
 prompted Mrs. Smith to give a dance, not 
 so much the giving of the dance, however, 
 as the selection of Dick Willing to lead the 
 cotillon. He threw such dash into his lead 
 ing and was so immensely popular with the 
 younger girls that any function he managed 
 was sure to be a pronounced success. 
 
 But it took a great exercise of tact on the 
 part of Mrs. Smith to obtain his co-opera 
 tion. Dick Willing was an old Washing- 
 tonian and shared the old Washingtonian 
 distaste for parvenus, but after some 
 months of delicate manoeuvring, during 
 which Dick was frequently placed under 
 social obligations to Mrs. Smith, she finally 
 broached the subject of her dance, and the 
 young man found himself in a position 
 where a refusal was impossible. 
 
 He was given carte blanche and free 
 access to the senator's bank account. 
 Sherry was to come on from New York to 
 serve the supper. There was to be a Hun 
 garian orchestra from the metropolis to 
 alternate with the Marine band, and the 
 green-houses of Washington were to be 
 stripped bare to supply the floral decora 
 tions.
 
 60 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 Dick Willing said that if he must under 
 take the task, he would give people some 
 thing to talk about, and they did talk for 
 days before the event. The wildest rumors 
 were floating about. Mrs. Cortland said 
 she had heard that diamond brooches were 
 to be given as favors, and Komlossy stated 
 that he knew positively that coffee was to 
 be served in gold cups studded with pre 
 cious stones, such as are used by the Sultan ; 
 while General Lloyd whispered about as the 
 most astonishing story of all, that Senator 
 Smith had been persuaded to discard his 
 watch chain, and would appear in a suit of 
 evening clothes imported from London espe 
 cially for the occasion. Somebody even 
 hinted that the senator would treat his 
 cronies in the smoking-room to Scotch and 
 soda instead of bourbon, but nobody be 
 lieved that. 
 
 Dick Willing carefully supervised the in 
 vitation list so that only the smartest people 
 were invited. The number was necessarily 
 small, because Mrs. Smith did not know all 
 the smart people, and in spite of the re 
 monstrances of the senator that all his 
 friends were left out, no one was invited
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 61 
 
 who would not add distinction to the occa 
 sion. 
 
 Of course numerous senatorial and con 
 gressional "ladies " were furious at being 
 excluded, and many vows of vengeance 
 were registered against "Mrs. Senator 
 Smith." The senator even was treated 
 with marked coolness by some of his col 
 leagues, but Mrs. Smith wore a triumphant 
 smile. She was "getting there " at last. 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Cortland," said Kom- 
 lossy to his companion as they entered 
 Mrs. Smith's drawing-room on the eventful 
 evening of the dance; "I should call this 
 the age of persistent parvenus." 
 
 "And perverted peers," added Mrs. 
 Cortland. 
 
 "Yes, money will now buy even a peer." 
 
 "But the parvenu of to-day is the peer 
 of to-morrow." 
 
 "Alas, yes," said Komlossy, mournfully. 
 "In feudal days the aristocracy owned the 
 money; now money owns the aristocracy." 
 
 "And why not? To be a millionaire 
 means to be a successful man. As Na 
 poleon said : ' It is greater to be an ancestor 
 than merely a descendant.'
 
 62 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "But wealth to be attractive requires 
 age; it must be old and crusty like good 
 port. New-made wealth is crude and vul 
 gar. I hate new things. I hate mushroom 
 millionaires." 
 
 "Society must be fed. Society must be 
 amused. What would society be without 
 millionaires to give extravagant parties? 
 Merely a collection of insolvent blue-bloods 
 bemoaning the past." 
 
 "At least they would have ancestors." 
 
 "Who stole cattle, butchered men and 
 bought titles for themselves, while our mil 
 lionaires rob men, butcher cattle and buy 
 titles for their daughters. What is the 
 difference? Merely one of age and oppor 
 tunity." 
 
 "I see you are incorrigible," said the 
 little man, "so let us sit down here and watch 
 the arrivals. The manner in which people 
 enter a drawing-room forms an interesting 
 character study." 
 
 Mrs. Smith stood near the door greeting 
 her guests. It was the proudest, happiest 
 moment of her life. As one by one the 
 best people of the capital filed past her, she
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 63 
 
 felt the exultant thrill a conqueror might 
 feel in surveying a victorious field. Meek, 
 docile Phoebe Smith stood beside her mother 
 and smirked. Even she felt a tremor of 
 satisfaction, but the expression on the sen 
 ator's face was of resigned martyrdom. He 
 fidgeted in his new clothes, he plunged 
 his hands in his pockets, but remembering 
 his wife's admonition, he drew them out 
 hurriedly with a sheepish side glance. Then 
 he wandered about the room and tried in 
 vain to feel at home until he spied a col 
 league whose wife also had social am 
 bitions. Senator Smith heartily greeted 
 the new-comer with "Hello, Jones, let's 
 have a drink," and two broad-shouldered 
 solons disappeared through a neighboring 
 door, and were seen no more until the host 
 was hurriedly summoned to take the wife of 
 the British ambassador to supper. 
 
 "There goes your friend, Ritchie Mait- 
 land," said Mrs. Cortland to her compan 
 ion. "The most discontented people in 
 the world are dismissed diplomats. I 
 think it would be a chanty to behead them 
 actually as well as officially. ' '
 
 64 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "It would be less barbarous to keep them 
 in office during good behavior, and reward 
 their efforts by promotion." 
 
 "But that is undemocratic. Rotation in 
 office you know." 
 
 "Then why not rotate the army officers. 
 It is quite as logical, and would make so 
 many more generals to wear rosettes in their 
 buttonholes. I have never been able to 
 understand the fondness of you democrats 
 for titles and decorations. But then 
 democracies are after all merely inconsist 
 encies." 
 
 "And I have never been able to under 
 stand the extreme delight foreigners take in 
 finding fault with American peccadillos ; why 
 not judge us by our triumphs, not our trivial 
 ities." 
 
 ' 'Because America is a big, over-grown, 
 precocious child, and the peccadillos of the 
 child, unless corrected, become the vices of 
 the man. We take a father's interest in 
 you, that is all." 
 
 "Rather the jealousy of a father who 
 cannot see his offspring outstrip himself." 
 
 "With you Americans patriotism is self- 
 complacency; with us it is self-sacrifice."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 65 
 
 The minister said this rather snappishly. 
 Mrs. Cortland merely smiled. 
 
 "Fancy you sacrificing yourself on any 
 altar, unless there be a goddess named 
 Culina. Even then the sacrifice would be 
 merely one of digestion." 
 
 "How rude you are to-night," said the 
 minister. 
 
 "No, I am merely disappointing. The 
 women flatter you so much that an occa 
 sional truth is unendurable." 
 
 "Ritchie Maitland, I believe, not I, is 
 the subject of discussion." 
 
 "Very well, what do you think of him?" 
 
 "My opinion would be too complacent. 
 Yours might have a dash of caustic. 
 
 "To me he seems merely an office- 
 seeker. ' ' 
 
 "Most Americans are that." 
 
 "But he belongs to the obsequious, not 
 the obstreperous type." 
 
 "How do you distinguish them?" asked 
 Komlossy. 
 
 "Why the latter comes to Washington 
 with a brass band, and the indorsement of 
 everybody in his state from sheriff to 
 senator; he gets a refusal or at most a coun-
 
 66 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 try post-office. The former makes himself 
 indispensable to some politician and gets 
 what he wants." 
 
 "Then you think Mr. Maitland will suc 
 ceed ?' ' 
 
 "I think he is too clever; he has too 
 many irons in the fire. If he would stick 
 to General Lloyd, for instance, and let the 
 others alone, his efforts would be less appar 
 ent and more probable of success." 
 
 "I should advise him to make love to 
 Violet Duncan. Men rule the world, and 
 women rule the men." 
 
 "Violet is too clever to be taken in." 
 
 "Clever women are usually taken in by 
 men. It is the silly women who take men 
 in.' 
 
 "Violet has seen too many men to be 
 fooled by mere cleverness. The man who 
 wins her must have a heart as well as an in 
 tellect." 
 
 "We shall see," said Komlossy, cynic 
 ally. "In the meantime let us walk 
 about and see all the gorgeousness. 
 What a pity they have taken the price 
 marks off. I should like to know what it 
 all cost."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 67 
 
 Violet Duncan entered the room. Her 
 beauty was commanding; her carriage was 
 perfect. Many a faultless face is ruined by 
 a faulty walk. Beauty to be truly beauti 
 ful must be dignified ; when it is of the 
 dainty, dimpled order, it is merely prettiness. 
 Violet was truly beautiful; men and even 
 women paused to admire. 
 
 "What a pity she is poor," said 
 Mrs. Elliott. "She was born to be a 
 duchess." 
 
 "And dukes have a disagreeable habit of 
 marrying ducats. Haven't they?" put in 
 Mrs. Love. 
 
 "She is so stately," said General Lloyd. 
 
 "And so cold," added Mrs. Love. 
 
 "Just like a statue," said Mrs. Elliott. 
 "An exquisite creation with a heart of mar 
 ble." 
 
 "I wonder whom she will marry?" asked 
 the General. 
 
 "A millionaire, of course, whom else 
 could she marry? " replied Mrs. Love. 
 
 " She would do honor to a king," 
 answered the General tartly. Then he 
 walked away abruptly. 
 
 "I actually believe General Lloyd has
 
 68 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 hopes himself, don't you, dear?" said 
 
 Mrs. Love. 
 
 f 
 
 "Aspirations would be the better term," 
 repHed Mrs. Elliott. "Violet Duncan 
 would make an ideal wife for an aspiring 
 politician. General Lloyd is ambitious and 
 rich. Violet is poor and tactful. Who 
 knows what might happen? See, he is talk 
 ing to her now." 
 
 "How clever you are, dear," said Mrs. 
 Love. 
 
 General Lloyd joined the little group of 
 men who had already surrounded Violet. 
 
 "I am sorry, Mr. Richards," she was 
 saying, "but I promised to dance the cotil 
 lon with Mr. Maitland, at least a week 
 ago." 
 
 "The fourth dance did you say Captain 
 Smith. No, you can 't have that, but the 
 fifth; will that do?" 
 
 "Please Mees Duncan," pleaded Count 
 Albuquerque; "one little dance for me, and 
 not a valse. I cannot dance him." 
 
 "The sixth, but you must remember it 
 yourself. I am sure I shall forget that far 
 ahead." 
 
 "I shall remember it always," said the
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 69 
 
 count, clicking his heels together and bow 
 ing- v 
 
 "I cannot dance, but may I admire?" 
 said General Lloyd, with old-time suavity. 
 "One glance at the queen, is all I ask." 
 
 "Beautiful! General," said Violet; "but 
 how many women have you already said 
 that to this evening? I am sure I could 
 name at least three." 
 
 The General frowned. 
 
 "Miss Duncan," he said, "the value of a 
 compliment lies in its intention. My in 
 tention was truthful. Were I courageous 
 I would ask you to walk with me to the 
 next room, where it is cool, and there is a 
 capital punch." 
 
 "Then as you are timid I will ask you," 
 she said, taking his arm. 
 
 There was a twanging of cymballos, a 
 tremor of violins, as the strains of a waltz 
 burst forth in weird, Hungarian rhythm. 
 
 "Oh, dear," said Violet; "I have prom 
 ised this dance. I hope he won't find me, 
 he is such a silly little man, and he treads 
 on one's toes so distressingly." 
 
 "Miss Duncan," called an effeminate 
 voice at her elbow; "I think this is our
 
 yo THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 dance. I have been watching you for ever 
 so long. I feared I might not find you 
 when the time came." 
 
 "How considerate," said Violet; "you 
 must excuse me, General Lloyd." 
 
 "With reluctance." 
 
 Violet patiently placed her arm on the 
 little man's shoulder; she had forgotten his 
 name though she had a painful recollection 
 of having danced with him before. For a 
 full minute he jumped up and down on his 
 toes counting one, two, three, one, two, 
 three, to himself; but his efforts to catch 
 the time were fruitless, and finally in des 
 peration he whirled Violet away with per 
 spiring, frenzied disregard of all terpsich- 
 orean tempo. 
 
 General Lloyd watched them intently. 
 In and out of the maze of waltzers they 
 went; the little man struggling, tramping, 
 gyrating; Violet, with the ease and grace 
 of a perfect dancer, doing her best to avoid 
 a catastrophe. 
 
 An expression of pain crossed her face 
 suddenly. The General remembered her 
 toes. Then she smiled sweetly at her dis 
 comfited partner.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 71 
 
 "What are you thinking about, Gen 
 eral?" asked Mrs. Love, who was standing 
 next him. "You look so intense." 
 
 "I was thinking that there is but one 
 thing so deceptive as a pretty woman's 
 smile." 
 
 "And that is?" 
 
 "Her words." 
 
 "Pretty women are not all insincere." 
 
 "No, some are merely inconstant." 
 
 "You are very disagreeable, General." 
 
 "No, I am merely discerning. A plain 
 woman's constancy is the work of Provi 
 dence ; that of a pretty woman depends very 
 much upon the man she falls in love with." 
 
 "What a lot of infidelity you must be re 
 sponsible for," said Mrs. Love, with a sar 
 castic chuckle. 
 
 "I hate that woman," mused the Gen 
 eral, as he moved away. 
 
 Supper was served in a temporary room 
 built for the occasion. The walls were cov 
 ered with Syrian draperies. Here and there 
 palms and foliage plants were massed pro 
 fusely, while the white tables were heaped 
 with roses. A subdued light was shed by 
 hanging lamps of bronze and countless
 
 72 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 shaded candles. The music of guitars and 
 mandolins mingled with laughter. 
 
 Violet paused in the doorway. She was 
 with Jack Hardy. They were looking for 
 seats. 
 
 Some people were just leaving a small 
 table in the farther corner of the room. 
 
 "There is a place, Jack," she said. 
 "Run and get it before it is taken. I will 
 follow.'* 
 
 Hardy departed to secure the table. 
 Maitland, who had been watching an oppor 
 tunity to speak to Violet, approached 
 quickly. 
 
 "You would not take supper with me," 
 he said, "and I am unwilling to be with any 
 one else ; will you not grant me a seat at 
 your table? It will be a charity, not a 
 favor. ' ' 
 
 "To do charity is always a pleasure. I 
 am glad you put it in the light of 
 charity." 
 
 At the sight of Maitland, Hardy glow 
 ered. He had asked Violet to take supper 
 with him some ten days previously, and he 
 considered Maitland' s intrusion an imperti 
 nence. He was not a diplomat, so instead
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 73 
 
 of outshining his rival, he sulked, a danger 
 ous experiment for a man in love. 
 
 Maitland took in the situation at a glance, 
 and smiled to himself. Violet made several 
 ineffectual attempts at a pacification, which 
 Hardy refused to accept ; then she finally 
 turned to talk to Maitland. 
 
 It was exactly what Mr. Ritchie Mait 
 land wanted, and exactly what he had 
 planned. He had been studiously civil to 
 Hardy, and Violet thought that Jack was 
 behaving peevishly. 
 
 "I wonder, Mr. Maitland," said Violet, 
 "if you are affected by your surroundings. 
 Could you be unhappy in a ball-room?" 
 
 "A cruel glance could make me unhappy 
 anywhere." 
 
 "That remark is trite. You can do bet 
 ter, I am sure." 
 
 "Truths are always trite because they are 
 so apparent. It is only a brilliant lie which 
 dazzles." 
 
 "Then lie to me." 
 
 "I fear I should fail in that also, except 
 in that the spoken truth would be half a lie 
 because words could only half express my 
 admiration."
 
 74 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "That is better. Yes, I like you better 
 as a liar." 
 
 "I should outshine Ananias if it would 
 make you like me." 
 
 "Ananias was a clumsy tyro," put in 
 Jack Hardy. "Diplomacy had not been 
 invented in his day." 
 
 "There was no need for diplomacy then," 
 said Maitland; "soldiers were always ready 
 to fight." 
 
 Hardy blushed angrily. 
 
 "The pouring of oil on troubled waters is 
 an ancient art at least," said Violet with a 
 disapproving glance at Jack. 
 
 He smothered the retort which had been 
 on his lips. 
 
 "Were I a cynic," said Maitland, rais 
 ing his glass, "I should say that love 
 inspires the ecstasy of an hour, but 
 when its exhilaration is over, it leaves 
 regrets for the excesses it has led us 
 into." 
 
 "Such remarks make one doubt human 
 nature," said Violet; "or at least doubt the 
 man who makes them." 
 
 "Do n't forget that I am lying to please 
 you."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 75 
 
 "The way to please me is to be true to 
 yourself. I hate insincerity." 
 
 There was a tone of resentment in Vio 
 let's voice; a tone betraying a certain in 
 terest in Maitland, which he was quick to 
 notice. 
 
 "I am sincere," he said earnestly; "but 
 sincerity is at such a discount nowadays that 
 one often tries to disguise one's true feelings 
 by flippant words." 
 
 "A sincere person never trifles," said 
 Hardy. 
 
 "Trifling is purely adventitious," an 
 swered Maitland with studied indifference. 
 "But insincerity is intentional, therefore it 
 resembles incivility." 
 
 "I think," said Violet coldly, "that a 
 ball-room conversation should be purely in 
 cidental. Sentiments are best left unex 
 pressed. Shall we go back now ?" she con 
 tinued, rising from her seat. "We all seem 
 to have finished." 
 
 Maitland walked with Violet, and Jack 
 Hardy followed sulkily. Hardy was not 
 naturally rude ; on the contrary he was big- 
 hearted and generous, but he was in love, 
 and rudeness to a rival is a prerogative of a
 
 76 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 man in love. Perhaps he did not consider 
 Maitland in the light of a rival, but he was 
 an interloper whom Violet seemed distinctly 
 to favor. Jack knew that in their conver 
 sational tilt he had been no match for the 
 ex-diplomat. He had lost his temper, 
 always a confession of weakness, and he felt 
 heartily ashamed of himself. 
 
 When they reached the ball-room the 
 cotillon was commencing. Hardy had no 
 heart for dancing. He stood with a group 
 of men, thronging a doorway. 
 
 Maitland was a master dancer. As he 
 guided Violet through the crowded ball 
 room she felt that she had never met his 
 equal. The music was enchanting, the 
 floor perfection. Silently they waltzed 
 awhile, then she said: ''Why did you send 
 me these yellow roses, they are the color of 
 jealousy?" 
 
 "Because you make me realize that jeal 
 ousy is a possibility." 
 
 "But not a probability. Love precedes 
 jealousy, and you are too selfish to love 
 any one." 
 
 "Love is the most selfish of sentiments; 
 its demands are so exacting."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 77 
 
 "That is a man's idea; a woman's love is 
 absolutely unselfish." 
 
 "Could you be unselfish, that is to say, 
 generous to me, I wonder?" 
 
 His glance, usually so cold, for the mo 
 ment was strangely sympathetic. Violet 
 did not reply. She closed her eyes and 
 tried to shut out a thought. Their steps 
 moved on to the enchanting music. In the 
 darkness she seemed to be carried dreamily 
 through space toward some great danger. 
 But the thought was fascinating. The 
 music stopped ; for a moment they danced 
 on, but she was back in the noisy world of 
 people. She laughed at her foolish fancy. 
 
 "You are so very quiet to-night," he 
 said. "It is unlike you." 
 
 "Would you wish me to prattle inces 
 santly ?' ' 
 
 "No, but when you are silent it makes 
 me doubtful of my effort to please." 
 
 "Then it is all an effort?" 
 
 "Certainly," he laughed, "when I exert 
 myself it means that I am anxious to 
 please. I am usually too indifferent to take 
 the trouble." 
 
 She did not reply. His words hurt her,
 
 78 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 they were unlike what she had expected ; 
 so selfish, so brutal. A young ensign 
 handed her a bunch of roses. Violet 
 smiled and thanked him. As he whirled 
 her away among the dancers she turned and 
 looked at Maitland reproachfully. He 
 shrugged his shoulders and laughed. Jack 
 Hardy saw him. "The cad," he muttered. 
 Then he turned away and wandered into 
 the smoking-room. 
 
 "What's Maitland's game?" he heard a 
 man saying. 
 
 Hardy stopped to listen. 
 
 "Why, London of course. You don't 
 suppose a chap like that is in Washington 
 for his health?" There were several in the 
 group two or three department clerks and 
 a foreign secretary. 
 
 "He does his work neatly," said another. 
 "Approaches Secretary Duncan through his 
 daughter. It 's an old dodge but it always 
 works." 
 
 Hardy felt an impulse to strike the fel 
 low. There are times when a man longs 
 for a return to the days of duelling. Why 
 could not Violet see Maitland as he saw 
 him; as all the world saw him? But Hardy
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 79 
 
 was merely a fretful, sensitive man in love. 
 He hated the world and everybody in it 
 except Violet. 
 
 In the ball-room Violet was triumphant. 
 The floor behind her chair was heaped with 
 favors. She was ever in the throng of 
 dancers, tall, lithe, radiant, a goddess to 
 whom every one bowed at least every man. 
 
 "What a pity Violet Duncan romps so," 
 said Mrs. Elliott in a whisper; "it is undig 
 nified." 
 
 "Yes," answered Mrs. Love; "she is too 
 tall to make herself so prominent." 
 
 "I do n't like her dress, do you?" 
 
 "No, it 's too fussy." 
 
 "And such a hanging skirt." 
 
 ' ' I wish she would go to a decent dress 
 maker." 
 
 "Poor dear, she can 't afford it." 
 
 Meanwhile an aide-de-camp away over in 
 the corner was arguing violently with his 
 partner to the effect that, unless a woman 
 was beautiful, her other talents, howsoever 
 worthy, counted for naught. 
 
 "Look at Violet Duncan," he said; "she 
 would be a success if she did n't have an 
 idea in her head."
 
 8o THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "I am afraid you are right. Violet 
 has n't an idea in her head, unless it be the 
 idea that she is a raving beauty. 
 
 Just then three men ran a race the length 
 of the room to see who could reach Violet 
 first. A girl almost as pretty as Violet 
 favored the soldier with an appreciation for 
 beauty, and his partner, a general's daugh 
 ter, at whose shrine he had been sacrificed 
 by duty, was left alone in the corner pick 
 ing to pieces the only bunch of flowers she 
 had received during the cotillon. 
 
 Dick Willing fairly outdid himself that 
 evening; he led with a dash that inspired 
 emulation in his followers. Mrs. Silas 
 Smith was beaming with happiness. Phoebe 
 Smith, radiant with smiles Senator Smith 
 the fact was that Senator Smith disap 
 peared upstairs shortly after supper with a 
 few cronies, and was not seen again. Some 
 one passing a door somewhere heard some 
 thing that sounded suspiciously like the 
 rattling of round pieces of ivory ; but it was 
 only a suspicion as the door was locked. 
 
 Dick Willing had the good sense to stop 
 the cotillon before the dancers were weary. 
 There were loud cries for more, and in re-
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 81 
 
 spon.se the Marine band struck up a lively 
 two-step. Violet danced with Maitland. 
 It was no longer the dreamy waltz but the 
 wild abandon of rapid movement. Fairly 
 intoxicated with excitement she glided over 
 the shining floor, her heart beating with 
 wild, delightful pleasure. On, on they 
 danced, until she reeled with dizziness. 
 The music stopped. Maitland led her 
 quickly out of the ball-room to a nook 
 under the musicians' gallery. Breathless 
 from the dance, she sank among the 
 cushions of a divan. Her cheeks glowed 
 from the exercise; her dark eyes glistened 
 in the subdued light. A Russian belt from 
 the Caucasus, a favor in the last figure, lay 
 carelessly in her lap. She half closed her 
 eyes and smiled in a dreamy way. Mait 
 land seized a flower from his buttonhole and 
 dropping on one knee before her said: 
 "This rose, sacred to Aphrodite, goddess 
 of beauty, I lay at her feet in the hope that 
 she will grant me her magic girdle and 
 thereby render me invincible in love." 
 
 Violet took the belt from her lap and 
 drew it over his head. Laughing, she 
 said: "The girdle is thine, oh, mortal,
 
 82 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 but thy invincible charms are to be invis 
 ible." 
 
 "To all but the goddess who gave them, 
 I trust," said Maitland, rising from his 
 knee. "It was to win favor in her eyes 
 that I asked the boon." He smiled mys 
 teriously, but there was a cold ring to his 
 words. His eyes were almost tender. 
 
 "The way to win my favor," she said, 
 "is to teach me not to mistrust you."
 
 VI 
 
 "THINE OWN TRUE KNIGHT." 
 Merry Wives of Windsor, II. 2. 
 
 "You ought to have been a knight-errant, 
 Jack; you ought to have been born in the 
 Middle Ages when you could have ridden 
 through the world on a charger, righting 
 the wrongs of lovesick maidens, and right 
 ing everybody who did n't agree with you." 
 
 Violet was the speaker. She and Jack 
 Hardy had ridden out to the Hunt Club. 
 It was a crisp winter afternoon, and they 
 were warming themselves before a log fire. 
 Twilight had come and the firelight flick 
 ered on their faces; in the shadow beyond, 
 huge rafters and walls hung with sporting 
 prints and trophies of the chase were dimly 
 outlined. 
 
 Jack tapped his boot thoughtfully with 
 his riding crop. 
 
 "I don't think you have ever under 
 stood me," he said finally; "I am not a 
 visionary. ' ' 
 
 83
 
 84 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Then why are you continually preach 
 ing?" she answered impatiently. 
 
 "I am nothing but a soldier, Violet. I 
 am used to activity; I can 't get accustomed 
 to the life here, that is all." 
 
 "Nonsense, Jack, it is a soldier's busi 
 ness to adapt himself to circumstances. It 
 would be far better for you if you had never 
 seen the frontier, and the sooner you forget 
 it the better. Make the most of your 
 opportunities." 
 
 "I must be a very disagreeable person," 
 he said resentfully. 
 
 "No, I scold for your own good. You 
 have been acting like a big baby lately; 
 why, at the ball the other night you were as 
 peevish as a spoiled child. Simply because 
 Mr. Maitland sat down at our table you 
 took it upon yourself to be as disagreeable 
 as possible. If he had been anything but a 
 man of the world my position would have 
 been unbearable." 
 
 Hardy moved in his chair restlessly. 
 Many thoughts were passing through his 
 mind. He turned and looked at Violet. 
 There had been real indignation in her 
 voice; there was a flash of resentment,
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 85 
 
 almost of anger in her dark eyes. He 
 knew that he was drifting, drifting always 
 away from her; soon she would leave his 
 life for ever. He laughed at the thought. 
 Why struggle against hope? Each succeed 
 ing day bore him further from Violet. He 
 knew it, and he was powerless to prevent. 
 He loved with a mighty love, a love so 
 overpowering that the very thought of ex 
 pressing it in words drove him to despair. 
 He wondered how other men who had won 
 the hearts of women had acted. But other 
 men had never loved as he loved. 
 
 "I did n't mean to be so cross to you," 
 said Violet, looking up and meeting his dis 
 tressed glance; "but I am very fond of you, 
 Jack, and it pains me to see you becoming 
 so moody." 
 
 "Very fond," he cried; "if you only 
 knew how those words hurt me." 
 
 "Why, Jack, what do you mean?" 
 
 "It 's all over, Violet," he said despond 
 ently; "it 's all over. I knew it could not 
 last." 
 
 "Why, what is the matter?" 
 
 Hardy stood before the fire. His riding 
 crop was clinched tightly in his hands. His
 
 86 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 eyes glared vacantly, and his words seemed 
 spoken to some one else, some one at a dis 
 tance. "You have been kind to me, Vio 
 let," he said, "very kind. I am grateful 
 for your friendship ; I am grateful for the 
 few years I have known you. When I am 
 gone I shall " 
 
 "When you are gone, Jack?" cried 
 Violet. 
 
 "Yes, Violet, I am going back to the 
 frontier. You remember you told me a 
 one-company post was the place for me." 
 
 "But, Jack, I was not in earnest. I was 
 only joking." 
 
 Her eyes met his eyes. She knew then 
 what before she had only suspected. She 
 turned away; she could not bear to look 
 into his pale, desperate face. 
 
 "Shall I go, Violet?" he said. "You 
 know why I am going." 
 
 "Yes, Jack, I know. Perhaps it is for 
 the best." 
 
 He gazed into the fire silently. He won 
 dered why he had feared to learn the truth. 
 Now that it was over he felt braver. He 
 turned suddenly and looked at Violet. 
 There were tears in her eyes.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 87 
 
 "Don't, Violet," he said almost cheer 
 fully. "Don't mind me, it is a soldier's 
 business to adapt himself to circumstances. 
 I shall be all right. Believe me I shall." 
 
 Violet seized his hand and held it tightly 
 against her heart with both her own. "For 
 give me, Jack," she cried impulsively; "I 
 have tried to care for you. I do care for 
 you, more than for any man, but not as 
 you would wish me to care. You under 
 stand, do n't you, Jack?" 
 
 Hardy smiled hopelessly. "Yes, Violet, 
 I understand." 
 
 "And you forgive me?" 
 
 "I have nothing to forgive. I am very 
 grateful because you have let me be your 
 friend so long." 
 
 Violet wiped the tears from her eyes. 
 
 "Forget me, Jack," she said; "think of 
 me as I really am. You do n't know what 
 a vain, selfish thing I am." 
 
 She tried to smile but her eyes met his 
 again. 
 
 "I am not worthy of you, Jack, believe 
 me I am not," she said. "Promise me you 
 will forget me." 
 
 He turned away from her and gazed into
 
 88 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 the fire. "I cannot make a promise I could 
 not keep," he answered slowly. "I shall 
 love you always. Shall we go now? It is 
 getting late," he said, after a moment. 
 
 Violet left her seat before the fire. 
 Hardy picked up a glove she had let fall 
 and handed it to her. 
 
 "Jack," she said, taking his hand; 
 "please do not go away. Can 't we be the 
 same old friends we have always been?" 
 
 "It is better that I should go. Besides I 
 should be only a friend. There might be 
 some one else " he hesitated a moment. 
 "Is there some one else, Violet? I should 
 like to know." 
 
 "No, Jack, there is no one else." There 
 was a thought in her mind which troubled 
 her, but it was merely a thought. It van 
 ished as it came. 
 
 "I am thankful for that, Violet. I have 
 had a fear lately, a foolish fear. I wanted 
 the man you loved to be worthy of you ; 
 that was all." 
 
 Violet stopped suddenly. She turned 
 toward him and looked him full in the face. 
 "I wish I could love you," she said, "love 
 you as you deserve to be loved."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 89 
 
 "Love begins with love," he said bit 
 terly. 
 
 Violet smiled. "You see the truth of my 
 words, do n't you, Jack? Try and believe, 
 too, that friendship is more durable than 
 love." 
 
 Hardy laughed. "As well tell a man 
 with a copper cent that it is more durable 
 than a gold dollar." 
 
 "Come, Jack, be sensible; we can be the 
 same old friends." 
 
 "Friends, yes," he said thoughtfully, 
 "but never the same old friends. Your 
 friendship will be pity now, and mine well 
 to call it friendship is merely begging the 
 question." 
 
 The dying firelight flickered. A mourn 
 ful gust from the night outside swept over 
 the glowing embers. Slowly they walked 
 toward the door. 
 
 Violet stopped on the threshold, and 
 turning toward him, said: "Perhaps I am 
 not like other women, Jack. I am colder, 
 more unimpressionable. I think I care for 
 you more than I care for any man, more 
 than I have ever cared. I will marry you 
 if you wish."
 
 9 
 
 He kissed her, then for a moment he held 
 her in his arms and looked into her eyes. 
 "I love you with my whole soul," he cried; 
 "I would die for you, but I could not 
 marry you, Violet not when you look at 
 me like that." 
 
 "Perhaps it is better that you should go, 
 Jack," she said thoughtfully; "better for 
 you at least." 
 
 He did not reply. He was trying to 
 realise the change which had come over his 
 life.
 
 VII 
 
 "EPICUREAN COOKS SHARPEN WITH 
 
 CLOYLESS SAUCE HIS APPETITE." 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra, II. I. 
 
 Mrs. Rivers' cook was unable to fulfill 
 expectations. Komlossy had gone so far 
 as to pronounce her divine, but she proved 
 her fallibility when it came to the chicken 
 souffle. It was soggy. The consequence 
 was that the little Magyar remained ill-hu 
 mored for the remainder of the evening. 
 Besides he was next his hostess, and could 
 not express his indignation. Ill fortune is 
 proverbially gregarious, and on this occa 
 sion his other neighbor was Mrs. " Senator " 
 Smith. No diplomat, however skilled, 
 could retain his serenity under such circum 
 stances. 
 
 Since the success of her dance Mrs. 
 Smith had grown garrulous. Her social 
 footing was more secure, and having tasted 
 the sweets of triumph, she felt an exultation 
 it was impossible to restrain. With true 
 91
 
 92 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 maternal pride her laudation took the form 
 of Phoebe. 
 
 "Phoebe ought to make a brilliant mar 
 riage, don't you think so, Mr. Minister?" 
 she said to the Hungarian, giving at the 
 same time a glance of pride across the table 
 toward her daughter, who was sitting be 
 tween Count Joam de Albuquerque and 
 Ritchie Maitland. 
 
 Komlossy, noticing that both men were 
 earnestly talking in the other direction, 
 merely gave an assenting grunt. 
 
 "You must admit that Phoebe has every 
 advantage," she continued. "Social posi 
 tion, wealth, and, if I do say it, she is above 
 the average in looks." 
 
 "You have stated the case mildly, Mrs. 
 Smith. I should say she had every advan 
 tage." 
 
 ' ' I am glad you agree with me. I am 
 thinking seriously of taking Phoebe abroad 
 in the spring." 
 
 "Indeed, Mrs. Smith. Is her health 
 poor?" said the little man with a show of 
 surprise. 
 
 "No," replied Mrs. Smith emphatically; 
 "but the advantages of Washington are so
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 93 
 
 limited, society is so restricted, a girl has 
 no opportunities. There are no marrying 
 men here." 
 
 "I could name a dozen who would jump 
 at the chance of marrying such a such a 
 prominent girl as your daughter." 
 
 "Of course Phoebe could marry any 
 one in Washington," said Mrs. Smith, 
 proudly, "but what are the men here? 
 merely impecunious officers and department 
 clerks." 
 
 "There are a few stray diplomats, Mrs. 
 Smith, Albuquerque for instance." 
 
 Mrs. Smith looked at the minister resent 
 fully. "Nonsense, Albuquerque is only 
 half-witted." 
 
 "A commendable quality in a husband." 
 
 "Now really, Mr. Minister, be serious. I 
 should like your advice, you are a man of 
 so much experience whom would you sug 
 gest ?' ' 
 
 Komlossy was vexed. What had he to 
 do with choosing a husband for Phoebe 
 Smith ? She might marry a cab-driver for 
 all he cared the mouse-like, little upstart. 
 He glanced across the table, a tall footman 
 was standing behind Maitland's chair. He
 
 94 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 was on the point of suggesting the foot 
 man, but he restrained himself. 
 
 "Why need you seek further than Ritchie 
 Maitland," he said with an inward chuckle, 
 "he is handsome, cultivated, a man of the 
 world, in every sense a desirable parti. He 
 is poor to be sure, but his social standing is 
 unexcelled, and he has had experience of 
 the world which should prove invaluable in 
 a husband. Why do n't you have Miss 
 Phoebe set her cap for him?" 
 
 Mrs. Smith cast a longing glance at Mait 
 land. 
 
 "She would have a rival to be sure in 
 Violet Duncan," continued Komlossy, 
 "but your daughter has every advantage of 
 wealth, social position, and I might safely 
 add beauty." 
 
 Mrs. Rivers had made the sign to leave 
 the table. 
 
 "Thank you," said Mrs. Smith hurriedly; 
 "I feel that you - have been a real friend. 
 Won't you come and see me soon; we 
 might have another delightful talk?" 
 
 Komlossy bowed perfunctorily, then 
 offering his arm to the hostess he walked 
 out of the dining-room, thinking inwardly
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 95 
 
 that there is no fool like a silly old woman. 
 In the drawing-room he found himself near 
 Mrs. Cortland. He breathed a sigh of relief. 
 
 "I see that cowboy soldier has got up to 
 the speaking point and has been refused," 
 Komlossy said to Mrs. Cortland with a 
 slight accent of triumph. 
 
 "How do you know?" 
 
 "He has gone to join his regiment." 
 
 "That proves nothing." 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Cortland, I have private 
 information from the war department that 
 Lieutenant Hardy joined his regiment at 
 his own request." 
 
 "He is a thorough soldier," said Mrs. 
 Cortland vaguely; "the life here is too lazy 
 for him." 
 
 "Bah," said Komlossy, "no soldier ever 
 left Washington at his own request unless 
 there was a woman at the bottom of it." 
 
 "If there were no women in the world 
 you men would have no excuse for your 
 evil deeds." 
 
 "We would have no evil deeds to ex 
 cuse." 
 
 Mrs. Cortland directed her eye-glass at 
 the minister.
 
 96 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "You must have been disappointed in 
 your dinner, Komlossy." 
 
 "Yes, the souffle was soggy. If there is 
 one test of a good cook it is a souffle, and 
 to think that only last week I was uphold 
 ing the cook of this establishment as a veri 
 table cordon bleu." 
 
 "Run away, Komlossy, and have your 
 smoke; you will be less disagreeable then," 
 said Mrs. Cortland, turning her back on him. 
 
 The minister shrugged his shoulders. 
 Then he wandered towards the smoking- 
 room. 
 
 Mrs. Cortland walked across the room to 
 where Violet was sitting. 
 
 "I hear Mr. Hardy has left Washing 
 ton," she said, taking the seat beside her. 
 
 "Yes, he has gone back to his regi 
 ment." 
 
 ' ' I am sorry to hear that ; he was a great 
 favorite of mine." 
 
 "He is too quiet in his tastes for Wash 
 ington; he does not care for society." 
 
 "But he is such a manly young fellow, 
 so straightforward and nice. Do you 
 know, I rather hoped you might fall in love 
 with him, Violet."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 97 
 
 "I! Mrs. Cortland," said Violet with an 
 expression of astonishment. ''Why I have 
 known Jack Hardy always, at least ever 
 since I was a child." 
 
 "You must believe in love at first sight." 
 
 "I do." 
 
 "In most cases I should advise a second 
 sight," said Mrs. Cortland dryly; "a girl 
 can 't know a man too well; that is if she 
 intends to marry him." 
 
 "But surely, Mrs. Cortland, a girl should 
 love the man she intends to marry." 
 
 "Certainly, my dear; but there is a vast 
 difference between a cozy hearth fire and 
 pyrotechnics." 
 
 Mrs. Cortland saw a decided expression 
 of animation in Violet's eyes. She turned 
 around. Ritchie Maitland had just entered 
 the room. 
 
 "Do you know what I would do if I were 
 you, Violet?" 
 
 "What, pray?" 
 
 "Throw away all your French novels and 
 read Fenimore Cooper, or Captain Charles 
 King, or something of that sort." 
 
 "Do you wish me to stultify my mind?" 
 
 "No, but you might cultivate a taste for
 
 98 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 nature's noblemen. There is some differ 
 ence between a blunt, straightforward hero 
 and a Casal for instance." 
 
 Violet shuddered. She remembered the 
 day when she had been reading "Un Cceur 
 de Femme, " and thinking of Maitland. "A 
 magnetic creature, whose power lay in his 
 boldness, who was selfish even in love." 
 That was her thought then. Had it 
 changed? she wondered. 
 
 " Really, Mrs. Cortland," she said, "I 
 must confess that I should prefer a Casal to 
 a Leather Stocking, for a husband at least." 
 
 "That is the way with you girls. You 
 judge a man by his accomplishments, not 
 by what he has accomplished." 
 
 Maitland wandered towards them. "I 
 thought I would come over here, ' ' he said, 
 "and let Mrs. Cortland slang me, she seems 
 to enjoy it so." 
 
 "Not so much as you fancy," said Mrs. 
 Cortland, "you are too vulnerable, I prefer 
 to attack an Achilles." 
 
 "Whom you can only hit when he is run 
 ning away. I receive your shafts more 
 boldly than that." 
 
 "Mrs. Cortland never says behind your
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 99 
 
 back what she would not say before you," 
 interrupted Violet. 
 
 "I can readily believe that. To my face 
 she tells me I am an all-around scoundrel. 
 I do n't know that she could say anything 
 worse of me." 
 
 "I was telling Miss Duncan," said Mrs. 
 Cortland, rising from her chair, "that you 
 were like the conventional hero of a French 
 novel. Sit down here and refute the asper 
 sion that is if you can, which I very much 
 doubt." 
 
 "Do you know, I am beginning to like 
 your friend," said Maitland, glancing after 
 her as she walked away." 
 
 "Because she tells you the truth?" 
 
 "Do you think she tells the truth about 
 me?" said Maitland quickly. 
 
 "She merely tells me what others do, 
 that you are very designing and very 
 selfish." 
 
 "And you believe it?" he asked earn 
 estly. 
 
 " I neither believe nor disbelieve. How 
 can a girl know much of a man she meets 
 casually in society, until he does something 
 to prove or disprove what is said of him?"
 
 TOO THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "When a man is reticent because but few 
 people interest him, he is cold and selfish ; 
 when he tries to succeed in what he has un 
 dertaken he is designing; such is the judg 
 ment of the world," Maitland said bitterly. 
 
 Violet was thoughtful a moment. "I 
 think reticent people are apt to be either 
 bitter or selfish," she said finally; ''but 
 sometimes they are merely indifferent." 
 
 "Then you agree with the world?" 
 
 "No; as I said before, my belief as re 
 gards you is agnostic. I doubt because I 
 do not know." 
 
 Maitland leaned towards Violet. "Miss 
 Duncan," he said, "I am indifferent. Peo 
 ple bore me. That is most people. But 
 you are different. You are such a thor 
 oughly good fellow; I wish you would be 
 my friend. I hope that is not too abrupt a 
 way of asking." 
 
 Violet laughed. "Why did n't you say 
 I was an adorable, heavenly creature?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "Because I am very serious. I really 
 wish your friendship." 
 
 "I do n't believe much in friendship be 
 tween men and women," she answered
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 101 
 
 thoughtfully. "I once had a friend of 
 whom I was very fond, but he ended by 
 falling in love with me." 
 
 Maitland smiled. "I could not accept 
 friendship," he said, "if that were pro 
 hibited in the contract." 
 
 "And I would not grant friendship on 
 any other terms." 
 
 "Don't compel me to throw aside the 
 mask of friendship. It conceals " 
 
 "Your egotism," interrupted Violet. 
 "Men like to make friends. It amuses 
 them to have some one who will confide 
 secrets to them, some one to whom they can 
 tell just as much or just as little as they 
 please." 
 
 "Is that the way this other friend did? 
 Because one man is false " 
 
 "The other friend was true as steel." 
 Violet interrupted, "never in my whole 
 life have I doubted him." 
 
 "And why do you doubt me?" 
 
 "Because you never talk as though you 
 were in earnest." 
 
 "Such is the reward of truthfulness," he 
 said with a sigh. "What is there that is 
 underhand about me?"
 
 102 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "No one seems to understand you." 
 
 He laughed. "I should not think that 
 would be difficult. I have spent ten years 
 of my life in the government service. Two 
 years ago I was retired. I am fitted for 
 nothing else. There is a vacancy in the 
 diplomatic service. I am here to try my 
 luck. It is very simple, is it not?" 
 
 ' ' I am surprised you have never asked me 
 to help you." Violet looked at him quiz 
 zically. She was thinking that he would 
 not be the first man to use his attentions to 
 her as a means to obtain political prefer 
 ment. 
 
 "Again you misjudge me," Maitland said 
 humbly. "I confess that when I first met 
 you the thought came to me that your 
 father's influence would be most valuable; 
 but it was only a thought, which vanished 
 when I knew you better." 
 
 "I should think that now you know me 
 it would be very easy to ask my assistance. 
 In fact I should be only too pleased to 
 speak to my father." 
 
 Maitland met her glance. "Please, Miss 
 Duncan," he said anxiously, "do not speak 
 to your father."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 103 
 
 "And why not, if I wish to help you?" 
 
 "Because," he replied, lowering his 
 voice, "I wish you to believe in me. I do 
 not wish you to think of me in the light of 
 an office-seeker." 
 
 "I thought you wished my friendship. 
 How could I show it better?" 
 
 "Miss Duncan," he said earnestly, "I 
 only mentioned my aspiration because you 
 doubted my sincerity. Whether I get the 
 London secretaryship matters little, but the 
 loss of your esteem matters much to me." 
 
 Violet smiled. "What has that to do 
 with the loss of my esteem?" she asked. 
 
 Maitland looked into her eyes. "You 
 know you could not respect me if my 
 friendship had an ulterior motive. Come, 
 be frank, could you?" 
 
 "No, I could not," she said. 
 
 "Then promise me you will not refer to 
 this matter again." 
 
 "That is accepting the gage of friendship, 
 is it not?" 
 
 "It is," he said. 
 
 "Then I accept," she answered. "I be 
 gan to like you at Mrs. Smith's dance. I 
 begin to respect you now."
 
 104 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "I crave even more than that," he said 
 almost tenderly. 
 
 "Don't make me think you a glutton 
 now that I am just beginning to like you." 
 
 "Ah, but you began that last week; the 
 next beginning must be " 
 
 "The end," said Violet quickly. 
 
 "The end of friendship, yes," he an 
 swered rising from his seat to make way for 
 General Lloyd, who had just approached. 
 
 "Oh, these diplomats, Miss Duncan," 
 said General Lloyd, glancing at Maitland, 
 "their tongues are well oiled, but they mean 
 nothing. Beware of them." 
 
 "But unlike some general's swords their 
 tongues are sharp and they use them," Vio 
 let replied. 
 
 "Really, Miss Duncan, I protest." 
 
 "A general commands, a diplomat merely 
 executes the commands of others. He is 
 only a high private," said Maitland, seizing 
 this opportunity of leaving the general in 
 full possession of the field. 
 
 "Private," replied General Lloyd too 
 low to be heard by Maitland. "Spy." 
 
 "Why do you dislike Mr. Maitland so?" 
 asked Violet.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 105 
 
 "I dislike any one who claims a large 
 share of your society." 
 
 "Then you must dislike yourself exceed 
 ingly," laughed Violet. "I know of no 
 one to whom I have devoted myself more 
 during the past fortnight. Even now I 
 permit you to interrupt a very interesting 
 conversation with a very interesting man." 
 
 "Still thinking of that diplomat. One 
 could understand it if he were still in 
 office," answered General Lloyd, taking the 
 seat vacated by Maitland. 
 
 "I am thinking of him because I wish 
 you to think of him. I wish to interest 
 you in his behalf." 
 
 "So he has been asking you to help him. 
 I thought that was his game." 
 
 "On the contrary he has not asked me," 
 said Violet indignantly. "That is why I 
 wish to help him." 
 
 The general frowned. "He made him 
 self very unpopular with Americans in Paris. 
 He was too good for his own countrymen." 
 
 "I can quite understand that," said Vio 
 let, "judging by the majority of Americans 
 one meets on the continent. He certainly 
 would make a better impression in Europe
 
 106 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 than the backwoods politicians we usually 
 send." 
 
 "Mr. Maitland is from Delaware. There 
 is a candidate from my own state, a young 
 New Yorker, whose father is prominent in 
 politics. He naturally expects my backing. ' ' 
 
 "But I wish your support." 
 
 "My support; you over-value it," said 
 the General deprecatingly. "All you have 
 to do is to ask your father and the thing is 
 done." 
 
 "Not if you oppose it. You know the 
 President is already seeking renomination, 
 and he wishes New York state votes in the 
 convention." 
 
 "What a politician you are. You ought 
 not to throw yourself away on secretaries, 
 you ought to marry a leader." 
 
 "General Lloyd," said Violet resent 
 fully, "I was not aware that my marriage 
 was the subject under discussion." 
 
 "Pardon me," replied the General coldly, 
 "we were talking politics." 
 
 "No, appointments." 
 
 "That is all there is to politics." 
 
 "There are obstructionists, are there 
 not?" asked Violet.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 107 
 
 "Yes, and neutrals," the General said 
 suavely. "In this instance I recognize the 
 rights of both belligerents, and declare neu 
 trality." 
 
 "Then that is your ultimatum, is it, Gen 
 eral?" 
 
 "It is." 
 
 "Remember I shall hold you to your 
 pledge," said Violet, rising from her seat. 
 "Do not let this young man from New 
 York draw you into the fight." 
 
 The General bowed. "You might draw 
 me into the fight yourself if you would." 
 
 "Would what." 
 
 "Smile upon me a little more favorably." 
 
 "Here is an opportunity to give me 
 cause." 
 
 "An opportunity for me to pull chestnuts 
 out of the fire," said the General, with a 
 frown. 
 
 Violet looked at him resentfully. Then 
 she turned and walked away without reply 
 ing. 
 
 The General glanced after her admiringly. 
 
 "What a wife she would make for an am 
 bitious man, General," said Mrs. Cortland 
 at his elbow.
 
 io8 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Mrs. Cortland, an ambitious man should 
 be a bachelor, then he can rise by flirting 
 with the wives of the men in power." 
 
 "It is less circuitous to have a wife who 
 flirts with the men in power." 
 
 "My wife would flirt with no man," said 
 the General doggedly. 
 
 "How would you prevent it?" 
 
 "By killing the man." 
 
 "Mercy! what a fire-eater. " 
 
 General Lloyd walked away. He was 
 distinctly annoyed.
 
 'THH WEATHER HERE IS L1KK AN AMERICAN WOMAN'S TEMl'EKAMENT."
 
 VIII 
 
 "FOR POLICY SITS ABOVE CONSCIENCE." 
 Timon of Athens, IIL 2. 
 
 Komlossy stopped on the steps of Mrs. 
 Rivers' house to turn up the collar of his 
 overcoat. A north wind was blowing, and 
 the cold air penetrated to his thinly covered 
 bones. 
 
 "The weather here is like an American 
 woman's temperament," he said with a 
 shiver, "bright and fascinating until you 
 discover how cold it is." 
 
 "When a woman is coM," said Maitland, 
 "there is some satisfaction in thawing out 
 her heart." 
 
 "Umph!" grunted the little diplomat; 
 "and what do you get for your trouble? 
 The privilege of sitting by the fire on rainy 
 days and talking about poetry, or holding 
 her fan while she dances with the latest 
 recruit for her troop of best young men. 
 In Europe a lover is a conqueror who drags 
 a willing captive at his chariot wheels; in 
 109
 
 no THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 America he is a tame pussy-cat who is 
 allowed to purr at convenient moments. In 
 Europe a woman would die twenty times 
 for the man she loves; in America she 
 might die if she were not loved by twenty 
 men at the same time." 
 
 Maitland felt too cold to argue the point, 
 so the two men sauntered along in silence. 
 It was but a step to the club and both had 
 visions of a cosy corner by the fire. 
 
 When they had reached that land of their 
 heart's desire and were comfortably toast 
 ing their toes on the fender in the smok 
 ing-room, Maitland turned to Komlossy and 
 asked him if he really thought American 
 women inferior to their European sisters. 
 
 "Not at all, not at all!" expostulated 
 Komlossy. "If I wanted to be amused I 
 should go to Paris; if I wanted to be mar 
 ried I should go to New York. ' ' 
 
 "A tribute to mediocrity?" 
 
 "No, to intelligence. Love a woman 
 with an intellect if you want to be wretched ; 
 marry one if you want to be successful. 
 The greatness of many a man is merely the 
 possession of a clever wife. And by the 
 way Maitland, that reminds me that I have
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS in 
 
 been arranging a marriage for you this even 
 ing." 
 
 "Forme!" exclaimed the younger man. 
 
 "Yes, it is quite settled. Mamma is will- 
 ing." 
 
 "Oh, really, then I am not to be con 
 sulted." 
 
 "No, merely advised. I rely entirely 
 upon your judgment. You cannot fail to 
 see the material advantages of the union I 
 propose. ' ' 
 
 "I think the negotiations have arrived at 
 a stage when at least the name of the pros 
 pective bride should be confided to me," 
 said Maitland. 
 
 "Nothing easier," chuckled Komlossy. 
 "Phoebe Smith." 
 
 "Heavens!" ejaculated Maitland. 
 
 "Leave off the 's' and call it Heaven. 
 What could be better than an heiress to mil 
 lions?" 
 
 "A woman with an intellect, to quote 
 your own words. Marry one if you want 
 to be successful." 
 
 "Bah, that" is if you have millions 
 already ; but a clever pauper like yourself 
 needs money, not brains."
 
 ii2 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "True." 
 
 "Well, think it over. I have made the 
 preliminary arrangements; mamma is will 
 ing, even anxious I might say." 
 
 "See here, Komlossy, you are making 
 game of me, and I won't have it," said 
 Maitland resentfully. 
 
 "That is ingratitude, base ingratitude; 
 you know my selection is a good one for 
 you at least. As for the girl, I confess it 
 took a great stretch of conscience for me to 
 advise a union with such a thorough rake as 
 you." 
 
 "A rake makes the best of husbands, he 
 has had so many opportunities for studying 
 the r61e." 
 
 "Exactly. That is why you should 
 marry Phoebe Smith ; you have experience, 
 she has money ; you will get the money and 
 she the experience not a bad exchange as 
 the world goes." 
 
 Maitland did not reply. He was thinking. 
 Not about Phoebe Smith and her millions, 
 but about other schemes he had in mind. 
 He was thinking about Violet Duncan and 
 the part he was playing. 
 
 "That 's right, think it over," said Kom-
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 113 
 
 lossy rising from his seat. "I am going to 
 play piquet with Brankovan." 
 
 Maitland gave an assenting grunt. Then 
 he ordered a drink, and sat gazing into the 
 fire. Yes, he had played his cards well, he 
 thought. The Secretary of State was 
 favorable, at least he had no candidate of 
 his own. The senators from Delaware had 
 both made a personal fight in his behalf, 
 and there was no one from Delaware at 
 present in the service. All that was needed 
 was strong personal influence with the 
 President. General Lloyd was thought by 
 many to be the power behind the throne, 
 but General Lloyd was out of the question ; 
 he had taken a distinct dislike to Maitland 
 which he was at no trouble to conceal. In 
 the cabinet the influence of Secretary Dun 
 can was paramount. He had won that in 
 fluence. 
 
 Violet would help him. He smiled when 
 he thought of the diplomatic way in which 
 he had secured her support. He was clever, 
 he thought; he had known just how far to 
 go, and now of her own volition she had 
 enlisted in his cause. Well, it was all in 
 the game. Violet was attractive, he con-
 
 ii4 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 fessed that, but she was too sincere to un 
 derstand the world thoroughly. If he were 
 in a position to marry he would marry just 
 such a girl as Violet he would marry Vio 
 let. Marry! and not a penny between 
 them. He laughed at the thought. But 
 Violet was not like other women he had 
 known; it seemed cruel to win her confi 
 dence, possibly her love, for his own ends. 
 But all is fair in love and war, he thought, 
 and this was a game of war as well as love. 
 When he had received his appointment it 
 would be time to think of such matters 
 meanwhile, Violet was his strongest card, 
 and to retain that card he was prepared to 
 go even to the extent of making love in 
 earnest. At least it would be in earnest 
 until his appointment was confirmed by the 
 senate and then well, sufficient unto the 
 day was the evil thereof. 
 
 Ritchie Maitland felt very well satisfied 
 with himself. He sipped his whisky and 
 soda and watched the firelight, then he fell 
 to thinking of his conversation with Kom- 
 lossy. The little Hungarian was never to 
 be taken seriously but Phoebe Smith 
 well a man in his position might do worse,
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 115 
 
 a man with expensive tastes and an income 
 of only three thousand a year. 
 
 "Hello, Maitland! You're the very 
 chap I 'm looking for." 
 
 Maitland glanced up. The speaker was 
 Albert Way, private secretary of the Secre 
 tary of State ' ' Bertie Way ' ' as everybody 
 called him an old friend of Maitland's 
 who had the faculty of knowing or sus 
 pecting everything that the powers above 
 were doing, and thus was invaluable as a 
 partisan. 
 
 "Well, what is it, Bertie?" said Mait 
 land, touching the bell by his side, for he 
 knew the circumstances under which Ber 
 tie's tongue wagged most freely. 
 
 "You 've got to get a move on," replied 
 the state department functionary, dropping 
 between the arms of a leather-covered 
 chair. 
 
 "Why, what 's up?" exclaimed Mait 
 land. 
 
 "What 's up? Why Lloyd is not only 
 against us but he 's got a candidate of his 
 own." 
 
 "The devil you say." 
 
 "Yes, Lloyd 's gunning for you."
 
 n6 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "But who 's his man?" asked Maitland 
 anxiously. 
 
 "Rye and carbonic for me." The serv 
 ant had appeared ; Bertie could conceive of 
 nothing more important than the com 
 manding of his tipple, so Maitland was left 
 in expectancy until the man had departed 
 to execute the order. 
 
 "Well, it 's this way. Lloyd is after 
 your scalp, and when he found you had 
 almost a cinch on this London business, he 
 went and trotted out young Bill Whiting, 
 the strongest man he could find." 
 
 "What, the son of Bill Whiting, of New 
 York, the man who puts up millions in 
 every campaign?" 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 "Why, I thought he and Lloyd were 
 rivals." 
 
 "That's where the fun comes in," 
 chuckled Bertie. "You know the Presi 
 dent wants to conciliate the factions in New 
 York, so when General Lloyd comes out for 
 Bill Whiting's son, I do n't believe he '11 
 dare refuse; it 's too powerful a combina 
 tion to break."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 117 
 
 Maitland drained his glass. "But there 
 must be some way out of it, Bertie." 
 
 "There is only one way; get Duncan to 
 take his coat off. There is a chance there 
 at least to hold the thing up until you can 
 rally all your forces. If you do n't, Whit 
 ing's name will go to the Senate before you 
 are three days older." 
 
 "But what can Duncan do?" 
 
 "Why he and my chief are as thick as 
 two peas in a pod. Get Duncan and 
 you 've corralled the Secretary of State. As 
 for the President he never moves without 
 consulting them. The rest of those cabinet 
 chumps are n't in it for a minute." 
 
 "I can 't conceive why General Lloyd 
 should have it in for me," said Maitland 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 "No more can I unless you have cut him 
 out with some woman. The old boy is a 
 terror after women." 
 
 "Mrs. Cortland! No that can 't be, she 
 is down on me, too," mused Maitland. 
 
 "Mrs. Cortland not for one sweet min 
 ute," laughed Bertie. ''She 's onto the 
 General's curves."
 
 n8 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Well, it 's too deep for me," said Mait- 
 land. "But if Duncan is the only chance, 
 Duncan it must be." 
 
 "But can you get him?" asked Bertie. 
 
 "Yes, Bertie, I can get him," said Mait- 
 land thoughtfully. 
 
 Then the drinks arrived and for the mo 
 ment they talked of other matters. Ritchie 
 Maitland had lost his air of confidence.
 
 IX 
 
 "OF SUCH A NATURE IS HIS POLITIC LOVE." 
 Timon of Athens, III. j. 
 
 Secretary Duncan was at his desk in the 
 library when Violet returned from Mrs. 
 Rivers' dinner. He glanced up from his 
 work as she entered the room. She looked 
 tired he thought ; he wished she would take 
 society less seriously. 
 
 "Still working, Pater?" said Violet, lay 
 ing her hand upon his shoulder affection 
 ately. 
 
 "Yes, there is a vacancy in the quarter 
 master's department. There are fifty line 
 officers who wish to take a short road to a 
 captaincy. I am examining the applica 
 tions." 
 
 "Why not make Jack a captain?" 
 
 "Jack, why he is a soldier every inch of 
 him. Make him a non-combatant! He 
 went back to his regiment at his own re 
 quest. I asked him to remain as a favor to 
 me, I even offered him a diplomatic ap- 
 119
 
 120 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 pointment, but he wanted to be with his 
 regiment. You do n't know Jack Hardy, 
 Violet." 
 
 "Yes, Pater, I know him," said Violet 
 thoughtfully. "He is happier with his 
 regiment." 
 
 "Now, my little girl, you must run to 
 bed," said the secretary, taking Violet's 
 hand and stroking it, "you look very tired, 
 and I have a lot of work here to get through 
 with." 
 
 Violet kissed him. "Good-night," she 
 said. "Do n't work too hard." 
 
 She walked toward the door slowly, then 
 turning suddenly, she came back to her fa 
 ther and seated herself on the arm of his 
 chair. 
 
 "Pater, dear," she said taking his hand 
 and resting her head upon his shoulder, ''I 
 have something I want to talk about, do 
 you mind?" 
 
 "No, dear, what is it?" 
 
 "I want your assistance for a friend." 
 
 "So you are in politics." 
 
 She smiled. "Yes, I am in politics for 
 the first time. You know I have never 
 once meddled with your affairs. I have
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 121 
 
 been asked hundreds of times, but this time 
 I have not been asked. That is why I wish 
 to use my influence; that is if I have any," 
 she added, drawing her arm about his neck. 
 
 "Well, out with it, little lobbyist." 
 
 "I want you to help Mr. Maitland get 
 appointed Secretary of Embassy in Lon 
 don." 
 
 Secretary Duncan hesitated for a moment 
 before replying. "I don't like that man, 
 Violet," he said finally. "He doesn't 
 quite ring true." 
 
 "I used to feel the same way, but I had 
 a long talk with him to-night. He was so 
 straightforward and honest that I quite 
 changed my opinion." 
 
 "Well, perhaps you are right," said the 
 secretary. "I have only met him twice. 
 What do you want me to do." 
 
 "Why the usual thing. See the Presi 
 dent and the Secretary of State. The mat 
 ter is under consideration I believe. The 
 best argument in his favor is his thorough 
 experience. He was eight years secretary 
 in Paris." 
 
 "And, therefore, has had his share of 
 patronage. It is time to give some one else
 
 122 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 a chance. That is what they will tell me. 
 Besides I do n't like meddling with affairs 
 outside of my department." 
 
 "But the Secretary of State is your most 
 intimate friend," she' protested, "and the 
 President always consults you." 
 
 "All the more reason why I should wait 
 until I am consulted." 
 
 "But, listen," said Violet, stroking her 
 father's hair; "I have never asked such a 
 thing before. Please do this for me." 
 
 "Well, Violet, just this once," the secre 
 tary answered somewhat fretfully. "But 
 you must not trouble me again about your 
 friends. I do n't believe in women med 
 dling with politics. Run along and do n't 
 bother me any more." 
 
 "Then you will see the President to-mor 
 row?" said Violet, rising from her seat. 
 
 "Yes, to-morrow, right after the cabinet 
 meeting." 
 
 "And you will do everything in your 
 power?" 
 
 "I never do things by halves." 
 
 "Good-night, Pater dear," she said as 
 she kissed him; "I 'm ever so grateful." 
 
 The secretary did not reply. He took
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 123 
 
 up the next application, and in a moment 
 was immersed in his work. 
 
 Violet went to her own room. Her sur 
 roundings were characteristic of herself, 
 there was nothing obtrusive; everything, 
 even to the most trifling silver object on the 
 dressing-table, was in perfect taste; every 
 thing harmonized with the color scheme of 
 delicate pink and white. She had been her 
 own decorator, and for the price of a mere 
 song she had produced dainty effects with 
 chintz and ribbons which gave to the room 
 an air distinctly of its own, or rather of 
 Violet. 
 
 There was an old-fashioned chair near 
 the window, a huge affair with bulging 
 arms and back, into which you sat and 
 were lost in comfort. There Violet passed 
 many an hour in dreamland. 
 
 When she had laid aside her gown, un 
 loosed her hair, and wrapped herself in the 
 folds of a loose peignoir she went to that 
 chair and drew it toward the light with the 
 intention of reading a few pages from a yel 
 low-covered book Komlossy had recently 
 given her. 
 
 But she could not concentrate her
 
 124 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 thoughts. The blurred letters dance before 
 her eyes. She threw the book away in 
 disgust. 
 
 "Why should I help him?" she said half 
 aloud. "What is Ritchie Maitland to me? 
 A mere acquaintance, a man who makes 
 pretty speeches and impresses me for the 
 moment with the thought that I am the 
 one woman in whom he is interested. He 
 is nothing to me and never can be." 
 
 Then she fell to thinking about the Silas 
 Smith ball. That wild dance the nook 
 under the musicians' gallery Maitland's 
 words his eyes, almost tender the cold 
 ring to his voice his mysterious smile. 
 
 Why did she think about him? she won 
 dered. He was only one of many men. 
 But she knew him better now. He was 
 not the cynical, selfish creature she had 
 thought him. There was a true man un 
 derneath it all. 
 
 "You know you could not respect me if 
 my friendship had an ulterior motive." 
 
 Those words had the true ring. She 
 was glad she had espoused his cause. It 
 had given them an interest in common. 
 He was no longer one of many men. He
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 125 
 
 was her "friend." She smiled at the word 
 "friend." It made her think of Jack 
 Hardy. 
 
 Poor Jack, he was a hero but Ritchie 
 yes "Ritchie" she repeated the word 
 boldly was a flesh and blood man, no bet 
 ter nor no worse than he pretended to be ; 
 a man of experience, who knew how to say 
 the right thing at the right time, a man who 
 amused her, a man whom she liked. 
 
 Why should she not like him? People 
 warned her against him, but people were 
 always jealous of every one more attractive 
 than themselves in Washington espe 
 cially, where every one had an axe to 
 grind; where every one was a partisan. 
 Ritchie needed a powerful friend. She was 
 glad she had become that friend. If he 
 received his appointment what then? He 
 would go to London. He would pass out 
 of her life? Did she care? She hesitated 
 because she was uncertain of the answer, 
 and that thought frightened her. 
 
 Ritchie Maitland called the following 
 afternoon. It was late when he came; the 
 lamps had just been lighted. 
 
 Violet had a corner of the drawing-room
 
 126 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 which she called her own. There was a 
 palm or two, a gilded screen, a silver table, 
 a window seat, a lamp with a becoming 
 shade, and a bergere with a becoming back. 
 It was the nook where she received her in 
 timate friends. She was sitting there when 
 Maitland entered ; Komlossy had just gone, 
 and he always put her in a cheerful mood. 
 
 "Better late than never, Mr. Maitland," 
 she said, extending her hand, as he ap 
 proached. 
 
 "I came to thank you," he said. "I 
 have just heard that your father has 
 been to see the Secretary of State in my 
 behalf." 
 
 "Your bureau of information must be 
 well managed. He could not have gone 
 until this afternoon." 
 
 "I have a friend behind the throne, or 
 perhaps under the throne would be more 
 correct," said Maitland, seating himself on 
 the window seat very near Violet. The 
 lamp shone full in her face, his own was 
 partly in shadow. 
 
 "Then you can tell me how the fight 
 goes," said Violet. 
 
 "None too well; your friend, General
 
 'MAITI.AND I.KANEI> TOWARD HKU. 
 
 '1 DA UK NOT TEl I. YOU,' UK SAID."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 127 
 
 Lloyd, has a candidate whom he is pushing 
 hard." 
 
 ' ' General Lloyd ! Why he promised me 
 he would remain neutral. ' ' 
 
 ''So you have spoken to him, too! 
 Really, Miss Duncan, I cannot thank you 
 sufficiently." 
 
 "It was merely friendship," said Violet. 
 "You know we are friends now." 
 
 "Yes, friends," Maitland said with a 
 sigh. 
 
 "That sigh was ungrateful." 
 
 "But friendship means so much or so lit 
 tle according to one's point of view." 
 
 "To me it means good-fellowship, com 
 panionship, mutual interest if you like." 
 Violet hesitated a moment. ''"No, I think 
 I should call it mutual sympathy, because 
 without sympathy there can be no friend 
 ship." 
 
 "And I," said Maitland; "why I dare 
 not tell you my view of friendship." 
 
 "Is it then so terrible?" 
 
 Maitland leaned toward her; her eyes in 
 voluntarily met his glance. "I dare not tell 
 you," he said very softly, "because to me 
 it means so much more than what you call
 
 128 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 friendship, it means oh, what is the use," 
 he laughed, "you would not understand." 
 
 "Understand what?" she asked almost 
 anxiously. 
 
 "That to me you are more than a friend, 
 you are an ideal." He hesitated a mo 
 ment. Violet turned her eyes away she 
 picked up a trinket from the silver table and 
 played with it nervously. 
 
 "Do n't misunderstand me," he said anx 
 iously. "A man who has knocked about 
 the world as I have done knows many 
 women intimately ; he loves a few perhaps 
 in a certain way others merely amuse him ; 
 but always in his imagination is the ideal 
 woman whom he hopes one day to meet, 
 the woman who combines the qualities he 
 admires most. Do n't misunderstand me, 
 I beg of you." 
 
 Violet met his eyes again. "It is you 
 who misunderstand me," she said; "you 
 who think yourself such a clever student of 
 women. You do n't know how strong a 
 part ambition plays in me. You do n't 
 know how thoroughly I enjoy power and 
 admiration; if you did you would despise 
 me."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 129 
 
 Maitland laughed. "Your very frank 
 ness gives the lie to your self-accusation. 
 You do not know yourself. What is am 
 bition? Why the very mainspring of suc 
 cess ; what is the love of admiration but the 
 love of appreciation. The woman who does 
 not wish to be admired, if there be such a 
 woman, is one whose soul is deadened by 
 neglect ; one who realises her own repulsive- 
 ness. Miss Duncan, it is your duty to be 
 ambitious; it is your right to be admired." 
 
 "You should have been a lawyer; you 
 are such a clever advocate," said Violet, 
 pushing away the stool on which her foot 
 had rested. 
 
 ' ' My cause is you ; that is why I speak 
 with such enthusiasm." 
 
 "That sounds like one of the pretty 
 speeches you used to make I thought you 
 had become more serious now that we are 
 friends." 
 
 "I am almost sorry you accepted the 
 gage of friendship. I fear it was wrung 
 from you through pity. It was merely the 
 desire to help me. I do n't wish you to 
 think of me in such a way." 
 
 "I like you, Mr. Maitland," said Violet
 
 130 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 frankly. "Is that not sufficient excuse for 
 being a friend. I did not like you at first." 
 
 "No, you had been warned against me; 
 some kind friend had told you all my bad 
 habits." 
 
 "I think you told me more yourself than 
 any one else." 
 
 "And you believed all I said." 
 
 "No, I merely believed what you did not 
 say," laughed Violet. 
 
 "And were I to tell you everything," 
 Maitland said looking into her face, "were 
 I to lay bare my heart and let you see me 
 just as I am, what would you think then, I 
 wonder?" 
 
 "I should think that you were honest." 
 
 He smiled. "What must be your opin 
 ion now," he said. 
 
 "Sometimes I think you are frank and 
 sincere, and then you grow mysterious again 
 and act as though there were something you 
 were trying to conceal." 
 
 "Yes there is something I am trying to 
 conceal," he said feelingly. He left his 
 seat and took a few hurried steps on the 
 floor. Then he came toward her quickly. 
 
 "Do n't you know," he said, "can 't you
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 131 
 
 see, ' ' he leaned toward her so that his eyes 
 looked into her eyes; "it is you, Violet, 
 you ; I care for you more than I thought it 
 possible that I should care for any woman. 
 It is you forgive me I can conceal it no 
 longer. ' ' 
 
 He took her hand and held it. Her 
 pulses throbbed responsively. She turned 
 her head away ; she dared not meet his eyes 
 again. She was afraid afraid of herself 
 afraid of him. 
 
 "Forgive me," he said, "I would not 
 have told you, but you doubted me." 
 
 "There is nothing to forgive," she said 
 slowly. 
 
 "Then forget. Let us be friends again, 
 the same old friends. I know that I have 
 no right to hope for more." 
 
 "How could I forget?" she asked look 
 ing up suddenly. He drew her toward 
 him, his arm was about her; with a sudden 
 effort she pushed him away. "No! no!" 
 she cried, "not now, not now." 
 
 "Pardon me," he said humbly. "Tell 
 me you will forgive me. Tell me I may 
 come again, just as I used to come; that 
 some day not now a long way off per-
 
 132 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 haps, some day when you know me better 
 and have learned to trust me tell me that 
 then I may come again and speak as I have 
 spoken to-day. That is all I ask." 
 
 Violet turned her head away. "It all 
 depends upon yourself, Ritchie," she said 
 slowly; "whether I learn to trust you." 
 
 He took her hand and kissed it. "Good 
 bye," he said, "good-bye; I ask no other 
 answer. ' ' 
 
 Violet gazed at the floor silently. When 
 she looked up he had gone. 
 
 The suddenness with which it happened 
 had dazed her; she tried to think but her 
 thoughts were wild and incoherent. She 
 felt still the pressure of his lips upon her 
 hand, the quick beating of her own heart. 
 
 "Do I love him?" she cried in bewilder 
 ment. "Is this love?" 
 
 She had asked herself a question she 
 dared not answer. Think of it as she 
 would there was always a feeling of fear 
 of mistrust. She was afraid of Ritchie 
 Maitland, afraid of the power he was gain 
 ing over her. 
 
 Secretary Duncan entered the room. 
 Violet ran toward her father.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 133 
 
 "Did you see the President?" she asked 
 anxiously. "What did he say?" 
 
 The secretary shook his head. "I am 
 afraid it is too late. They have about de 
 cided to appoint a New York man. You 
 see it is a question of politics." 
 
 "Pater, you must stop it you must see 
 the President again." 
 
 "But, Violet!" said Secretary Duncan, 
 "you forget my position in the matter." 
 
 "I never wanted anything so much in my 
 whole life, ' ' said Violet, throwing her arms 
 about his neck. "Ask it as a personal favor 
 to you. The President can 't refuse." 
 
 "My dear child," said her father, strok 
 ing her cheek affectionately; "I will do my 
 best. The President promised me to-day 
 that he would not make the appointment 
 without consulting me further." 
 
 "Then you will see him again; you will 
 urge it." 
 
 "But I don't understand, child," said 
 the secretary in a puzzled tone. "Why are 
 you so anxious about this appointment; 
 what interest have you in this man?" 
 
 "Don't ask me," she cried, "don't ask 
 me now. ' '
 
 134 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Why, Violet, how strangely you act. 
 Why, you are crying." 
 
 She left him hurriedly and ran to her own 
 room. Throwing herself upon the bed, she 
 buried her face in the pillows. Finally her 
 maid came. It was time for her to dress. 
 She was calmer then, she could think dis 
 passionately of all that had happened, and 
 as she thought a sudden resolve came to 
 her. 
 
 "I will do it," she said firmly, "I will 
 put his love to the test." 
 
 As she was leaving the house to go to 
 dine at the Hungarian Legation she went to 
 her father's room. 
 
 "You need not see the President, Pater, 
 unless you wish to," she said. "If you do, 
 advise him to appoint the New York man. 
 I think it would be better." 
 
 Secretary Duncan looked up dumb 
 founded. "Violet!" he exclaimed. 
 
 She did not answer, she had left the 
 room.
 
 X 
 
 'TWAS AT A FEAST." 
 Cymbeline, V. 2. 
 
 The set in which Komlossy moved was 
 known as "Olympus" because certain 
 diplomats were enthroned as gods, and cer 
 tain women were their slaves and cup 
 bearers. Komlossy played the role of Jupi 
 ter; when he thundered, his subjects trem 
 bled ; when he smiled they fawned. 
 
 But slights at Olympus were only cast 
 by certain jealous mortals in the form of 
 American youths, who being beyond the 
 pale, envied the gods. Sometimes they 
 beat their breasts with anguish, sometimes 
 they defied the lightning which somehow 
 never seemed to strike their way. 
 
 Dinners at the Hungarian Legation were 
 few and far between. The minister enter 
 tained for his own edification and not for 
 the settlement of social obligations. His 
 government was rather penurious, and not 
 being provided with an official residence, 
 '35
 
 136 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 Komlossy made the excuse that his little 
 house in Connecticut Avenue was merely 
 a pied & terre where he could only invite a 
 few intimates who were willing to take pot 
 luck with him. 
 
 Mrs. Herkomer, the wife of the St. Louis 
 millionaire, who had just completed a su 
 perb palace in Dupont Circle, Mrs. Love, 
 Mrs. Silas Smith and other disbursers of 
 social munificence had never crossed his 
 threshold, but his name remained at the 
 head of their invitation lists. No wonder 
 he was spoiled. He could do as he pleased, 
 and it pleased him to amuse himself with 
 out regard to others. 
 
 As a matter of fact, a dinner at the little 
 Connecticut Avenue pied el terre was a feast 
 worthy of the gods. As a scene of revelry 
 it suggested a Roman banquet ; as a repast 
 it recalled the most savory delicacies of 
 many lands. Komlossy 's cuisine was Cath 
 olic or rather French-Catholic for his 
 cook was a Parisian who had followed him 
 in the various peregrinations of his diplo 
 matic career, picking up, here and there, a 
 dainty receipt to which he always added a 
 dash of Parisian flavor.
 
 * 
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 137 
 
 The number of guests at one of Kom- 
 lossy's feasts was limited to ten, the table 
 was laid in a little alcove opening into 
 the drawing-room. It was chosen in 
 stead of the regular dining-room, because 
 Komlossy prided himself upon his orig 
 inality. The room was pentagonal in form, 
 and a broad oriental divan completely encir 
 cled it. The table was placed before this 
 divan, and there the guests were seated. 
 The opposite side was left unoccupied, the 
 service being performed from there. The 
 walls were hung with brilliant yellow bro 
 cade ; yellow roses and leaves of vivid green 
 were heaped upon the table ; gilded lamps 
 hung by chains from above, and trailing 
 from the ceiling was a profusion of rare 
 orchids; the odor of incense mingled with 
 the perfume of the roses, and the music of 
 mandolins came softly from behind a lat 
 ticed screen. 
 
 Little Komlossy, presiding in the centre 
 of that circle of intimates, indeed recalled 
 some Lucullus of a by-gone day. On the 
 occasion of the dinner to which Violet had 
 been bidden, he was almost smothered 
 between Mrs. Cortland and Mrs. Jack
 
 138 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 Elliott. He had an arm drawn partly about 
 the shoulders of each. Do not be shocked, 
 Komlossy was over fifty, and this was 
 Olympus. The gods were accorded privi 
 leges unknown to mortals, especially after 
 the liveried Ganymedes had performed his 
 service. 
 
 Madame Petrides, the wife of the Greek 
 Minister, was smoking a Russian cigarette, 
 but Madame Petrides was a foreigner. It 
 would not do to suspect the other women 
 of emulating her example. General Lloyd 
 wore a garland of smilax entwined about his 
 head. It had been placed there by Mrs. 
 Elliott because it was so becoming, and of 
 course Dionysius should have a place among 
 the gods. 
 
 Sweet-tongued Apollo, in the form of 
 Maitland, was trilling his lute a mandolin 
 snatched from a son of Naples in the ad 
 joining room and singing a song of the 
 cafes chantants, to which Brankovan 
 sedate, bearded Brankovan was beating 
 time with a spoon, while Poniaminski, the 
 Polish secretary, was interrupting fre 
 quently and insisting that he was a far more 
 skillful vocalist than Maitland.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 139 
 
 It was harmless gayety, of the sort that 
 makes life more bearable, at times, but 
 there were two of the guests who did not 
 enter into the spirit of the occasion. 
 Phoebe Smith, invited by Komlossy purely 
 out of deviltry in order that he might chaff 
 Maitland, did not know quite what to make 
 of it all. She felt more or less constrained 
 by the fact that she was not one of that 
 set, and being demure by nature, her chief 
 occupation was staring in wonderment at 
 the proceedings. 
 
 Violet, too, was not in a mood for levity. 
 Her thoughts were too serious. She was 
 looking at Maitland and trying to read be 
 neath the surface, trying to know him try 
 ing to understand the promptings of her 
 own heart. 
 
 Maitland finished his song. 
 
 "Come, Melpomene," said Komlossy, 
 addressing Violet, "cheer up, we want no 
 tragic muse here. Sing, dance, do some 
 thing." 
 
 "If I dance you must play the fiddle," 
 Violet said with an effort to throw aside her 
 sombre mood. 
 
 "I '11 play the piano," said Komlossy.
 
 140 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Capital! Capital!" shouted Mrs. Cort- 
 land. "Ladies and gentlemen, the perform 
 ance is only half over," she continued, 
 rapping on the table with a spoon to com 
 mand attention. "In the adjoining pa 
 vilion Seflorita Violeta, the distinguished 
 Spanish ballerina, will now dance a pas seul. 
 This wonderful feat I should say her won 
 derful feet will be accompanied on the 
 piano by Herr Janos Komlossy, the world 
 renowned Hungarian rhapsody." 
 
 "Here! Here!" shouted the guests. 
 
 "And immediately following this unique 
 performance," she continued, "Herr Ladis- 
 laus van Poniaminski, a genuine tumbler 
 from the Poland Spring, will entertain you 
 with an original rendition of the danse 
 Polonaise, The gentlemanly ushers will 
 now pass among you with tickets. Ladies 
 unaccompanied by gentlemen will not be 
 admitted." 
 
 When the applause which greeted this 
 effusion had subsided, there was a general 
 movement toward the drawing-room. Vio 
 let, blushing and remonstrating, tried to 
 resist the efforts of Mrs. Cortland and Ma 
 dame Petrides to drag her into the centre
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 141 
 
 of the room, but it was unavailing, dance 
 she must, or at least make the attempt. 
 
 Komlossy had already taken his seat at 
 the piano. "What shall it be, Miss Dun 
 can?" he asked. 
 
 "Something Spanish of course The 
 Sevillana." 
 
 Immediately the little man's fingers 
 rolled over the keys. 
 
 Violet was disappointed. She had 
 thought to escape through his inability to 
 play the air. 
 
 The Spanish music was greeted with ap 
 plause. Every one looked at Violet. But 
 she was not to be made ridiculous. Quick 
 as a flash she assumed a Spanish attitude. 
 Then in a moment with head thrown back 
 and fingers snapping, she was dancing that 
 characteristic dance of sunny Andalusia, 
 the Sevillana. Her movements were lithe ; 
 her steps were perfect. She danced with 
 the true abandon of the South, but grace 
 ful and modest withal. 
 
 A murmur of surprise then a burst of 
 applause, greeted her efforts. "Encore! 
 Encore!" they shouted, as she sank breath 
 less on a divan.
 
 142 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "I builded better than I knew," said 
 Mrs. Cortland. 
 
 "How charming," said Poniaminski. 
 
 "A rival to Carmencita, " put in Mait- 
 land. 
 
 "Where on earth did you learn it?" 
 asked Mrs. Elliott. 
 
 "Charity covers a multitude of sins," an 
 swered Violet. "I learned it from a Span 
 ish girl in Paris, to dance at a charity 
 bazaar. ' ' 
 
 "At last I have discovered the utility of 
 a charity bazaar," said General Lloyd. 
 
 "Now, it 's your turn, Poniaminski." 
 
 "Never, after that performance. I 
 should be hissed off the stage." 
 
 "Oh, but you promised," said Mrs. 
 Elliott. 
 
 "Yes, you must," added Madame Pet- 
 rides. 
 
 And between them they dragged the un 
 fortunate Pole to the centre of the room. 
 Komlossy struck up the lively Polonaise, 
 Maitland accompanied with his mandolin, 
 and soon Poniaminski was dancing with all 
 the fire and dash of his native land. 
 
 The applause which greeted him was 

 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 143 
 
 perfunctory, however. Violet had taken 
 the edge off his performance; her dancing 
 had been such a complete surprise. 
 
 Soon the party was breaking up into the 
 inevitable little groups of two. 
 
 Maitland wandered toward the corner 
 where Phoebe Smith was sitting. Kom- 
 lossy smiled when he saw the movement; 
 then he persuaded Mrs. Cortland to inspect 
 his collection of Japanese bronzes in a 
 neighboring room. General Lloyd came 
 toward Violet, who for the moment was 
 occupying a divan alone. He took the seat 
 beside her. 
 
 "How dare you brave my anger, Gen 
 eral?" she said, shaking her head in a 
 threatening manner. 
 
 "Your anger! Why your anger?" 
 
 "You do not play fair; you have not held 
 to the neutrality you promised." 
 
 "You misjudge me," said the General 
 apologetically, "I have done absolutely 
 nothing since our interview." 
 
 "I see. Your work had been so well 
 done before that further effort was unneces 
 sary." 
 
 The General smiled. "I am a politician,
 
 144 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 Miss Duncan. At least that is what the 
 newspapers call me." 
 
 "For once the papers speak the truth." 
 
 "But I have one redeeming feature. I 
 seek office only for others." 
 
 "That is because you know the futility 
 of office-holding." 
 
 "Office-holding is an insidious habit," 
 answered the General gravely. "Quite as 
 bad as opium eating. It ruins a man for 
 anything else. There is no particular satis 
 faction in it, and it seems impossible to 
 cure the desire." 
 
 "So you believe in letting your patients 
 gratify themselves to the fullest extent," 
 said Violet. "That is neither a cure nor a 
 preventive." 
 
 "I find my patients much less restive in 
 office than out; therefore I believe in grati 
 fying them as far as possible." 
 
 Violet thought a moment. "No," she 
 said, shaking her head doubtfully, "I 
 do n't believe in your theory. I think the 
 only cure is to deny the patient the means 
 of gratifying his craving. What would you 
 say if I were to release you from your 
 pledge of neutrality."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 145 
 
 "I should say that the ways of women 
 were past finding out." 
 
 "Well, I release you," answered Violet, 
 glancing toward Maitland. 
 
 "Now I am tempted to go to the Presi 
 dent and urge Mr. Maitland' s appoint 
 ment," said the General. 
 
 "And why, pray?" 
 
 "Because it would get him out of the 
 country. I am jealous of this this Mr. 
 Maitland," he added, looking into Violet's 
 face. 
 
 "Jealous!" she said in a tone of aston 
 ishment. 
 
 "I fear he stands in the way of a project 
 which is very near my heart." 
 
 "Why, General, I thought you disap 
 proved of hearts." 
 
 "So I do for women; when I marry again 
 I should like to feel sure that my wife's 
 heart had already been broken." 
 
 "To save you the trouble of breaking it 
 yourself?" 
 
 "No, I believe it is wise for a woman to 
 get over being in love before she is married, 
 then she will be able to appreciate marriage. 
 She will be able to realise that the intensity
 
 146 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 of love is an unnatural state a disease of 
 the nervous system ; while matrimony when 
 entered into judiciously is the only possible 
 road to contentment." 
 
 "How cold-blooded," said Violet with a 
 shudder. 
 
 "You say that because your heart has 
 not yet been broken. You have yet to 
 discover that men are never angels. When 
 you learn that they are only mortals and 
 very treacherous mortals at that you will 
 appreciate my philosophy." 
 
 ' ' I hope that day may never come, ' ' she 
 replied. 
 
 "And I hope it may come very soon," 
 said the General. "When it does come 
 you will realise that success is the only at 
 tainable goal in this w6rld, and even that is 
 precarious." 
 
 "I am sure you dc- n't believe your own 
 cynicism, ' ' she said looking him full in the 
 face. 
 
 "Possibly not," he laughed, "but at my 
 age a man is forced to believe something of 
 the sort. You see, I am too old to have 
 women fall in love with me ; therefore I try 
 to keep them from falling in love with
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 147 
 
 others. That is where my jealousy betrays 
 itself. You remember I said I was jeal 
 ous." 
 
 "Of Mr. Maitland," she interrupted. 
 
 "Yes, of Mr. Maitland," he said. 
 
 "Then the natural course would be for 
 you to defeat his appointment ; would it 
 not?" she answered rather eagerly. 
 
 "The natural course would be for me to 
 wonder at your sudden change of front." 
 
 "He has offended me, that is all," said 
 Violet, looking away. 
 
 "Are you quite sure?" the General asked. 
 
 Violet did not reply. 
 
 "Pardon me," he said, "I am merely a 
 neutral. Until you give me the right to 
 become a principal I shall remain a neu 
 tral." 
 
 "What do you wish me to do?" she said 
 looking up suddenly. 
 
 "Break your heart," he answered, meet 
 ing her eyes. 
 
 Violet looked at him in astonishment. 
 
 "By the way," he said suddenly chang 
 ing the tone of his voice, "I suppose you 
 will be at the White House to-morrow 
 night. What a confounded nuisance these
 
 148 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 political functions are. Every time I go to 
 the White House I begin to lose faith in 
 republican institutions." 
 
 He had changed the subject. Violet 
 considered it a relief. This cold, designing 
 man seemed to read her through and 
 through. She knew she was no match for 
 him, not in her present state of mind, at 
 least. Her faculties seemed dulled she 
 could not concentrate her thoughts she 
 was thinking always of Maitland, and won 
 dering what the future would bring forth. 
 
 A half hour later, when the party was 
 breaking up, Maitland came toward Violet. 
 Except for a perfunctory greeting upon her 
 arrival, he had not spoken to her the entire 
 evening. His indifference had annoyed her. 
 She found it difficult to understand his 
 attitude. 
 
 "I have waited for a moment to speak to 
 you," he said. 
 
 "You have certainly waited a long time," 
 she answered coldly. 
 
 "I could not talk to you when others 
 were about. It would have been so unsat 
 isfactory so different from this afternoon." 
 
 Violet turned her head away.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 149 
 
 "You act strangely, Violet. Has any 
 thing happened?" he asked. 
 
 "No, nothing has happened," she said. 
 "I was wondering," she hesitated, "I was 
 wondering whether you meant all that you 
 said this afternoon." 
 
 "How can you doubt me?" he asked 
 feelingly. 
 
 "I think it is myself that I doubt." 
 
 "Then I must convert you to my own 
 faith in yourself." 
 
 She turned and looked at him. 
 
 "Why do you make those speeches?" 
 she asked. "Those speeches which are so 
 prettily turned but mean so little. It is 
 that which makes me mistrust you." 
 
 "So you are still doubtful," he said 
 gently. "Why not put me to the test?" 
 
 "May I, Ritchie?" she asked. 
 
 "You ask my permission?" 
 
 "Yes, "she said lookinghim full in the eyes. 
 
 "What a strange girl you are, "he laughed. 
 
 "That is evading the question." 
 
 "Well, my Torquemada, start the en 
 gines of your inquisition. I am ready." 
 
 "Very well then; remember you have 
 placed yourself on trial."
 
 150 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "And remember that you are testing my 
 faith." 
 
 "No, Ritchie; I am testing my own 
 faith." 
 
 "Very well, as you please," he said with 
 a slight shrug of the shoulders. 
 
 This action ; the tone of his voice an 
 gered her. She turned away abruptly. I 
 am right, she thought, in putting his love to 
 the test. 
 
 "General Lloyd, one moment; I want to 
 speak to you," she called suddenly. 
 
 The General was just leaving the room ; 
 he turned and came toward her. Maitland 
 wandered away discreetly. 
 
 "Would you think it very strange," she 
 **said, "if I asked a great favor of you?" 
 
 The General bowed. "If it is within my 
 power, you have but to command," he 
 answered. 
 
 "I wish you to use all your influence on 
 behalf of your New York friend." 
 
 "It shall be as you wish," he said coldly. 
 
 "And," she continued hesitatingly, 
 "what I have just said shall remain a secret 
 between ourselves." 
 
 "It shall be as you command."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 151 
 
 "Thank you, General Lloyd," she re 
 plied, extending her hand. 
 
 The General smiled. "The favor is very 
 slight I assure you," he said. "It will not 
 take much influence on my part. Good 
 night, Miss Duncan." 
 
 "Good-night," she answered hesitatingly. 
 She had already begun to regret her action. 
 It seemed underhand cowardly. She 
 went toward Maitland. He was standing 
 alone at the farther end of the room. He 
 had been watching her keenly; his plans 
 were maturing beyond his fondest expecta 
 tions he thought. 
 
 "I am going now," she said, extending 
 her hand. 
 
 He took her hand and held it. 
 
 "Good-night, Violet," he whispered. 
 
 She returned the pressure of his hand. 
 She longed to tell him what she had done, 
 and ask his forgiveness before it was too 
 late. Was it pride or was it fear that re 
 strained her? She did not know. 
 
 "To-morrow, Ritchie; I shall see you to 
 morrow." 
 
 "Yes, to-morrow, and every day until 
 you learn to trust me," he said fervently.
 
 152 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 When she had gone, Maitland turned 
 and walked toward Phoebe Smith. She 
 was just taking leave of the host. He 
 waited, and then he sauntered with her to 
 ward the stairs. "May I come to see you 
 to-morrow, early?" he asked. "I should 
 like so much to help you arrange your 
 posters. You know Cheret was a great 
 friend of mine when I was in Paris. I will 
 tell you all about him." 
 
 "Are you quite sure it would not be 
 troubling you, Mr. Maitland?" said Phoebe 
 Smith with one of her sweetest smirks. 
 
 "On the contrary it would be a pleas 
 ure." 
 
 "Then I shall expect you. Shall we say 
 four o'clock." 
 
 "That would suit me exactly." 
 
 "Good-night, Mr. Maitland. It is so 
 good of you." 
 
 When she had gone, he turned and found 
 Komlossy at his elbow. 
 
 "Any fool can fall in love," grunted the 
 little Magyar; "it takes a wise man to fall 
 on his feet."
 
 XI 
 
 "A CERTAIN CONVOCATION OF POLITIC WORMS." 
 
 Hamlet, IV. 3. 
 
 Ritchie Maitland crowded through the 
 door of the White House. He had no 
 official standing entitling him to enter with 
 the diplomatic corps, but like others of the 
 social elect he had evaded the scrutiny of 
 the officials. By temporarily attaching 
 himself to the Hungarian Legation he 
 slipped past the door-keeper in the wake of 
 Komlossy, only to find himself in singular 
 contrast to the gorgeousness about him. 
 
 In that medley of embroidered coat tails 
 and glittering crosses, silken sashes and 
 gilded rapiers, Maitland felt ill at ease in a 
 plain black coat. His lengthy residence 
 abroad had instilled in him a supreme con 
 tempt for Jeffersonian simplicity. As he 
 glanced about at the various envoys of the 
 old world to the new, waiting there for the 
 opportunity to pay respect to the chief 
 magistrate, he blushed for what he called
 
 154 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 the boorishness of democracy. To his mind 
 simplicity was penury the want of ostenta 
 tion and formality, a lack of dignity and 
 breeding. He scorned his surroundings 
 and longed for the moment when he 
 could cease paying court to politicians 
 and shake the dust of Washington from his 
 feet. 
 
 At last his intricate mesh of wires the 
 labor of months seemed smoothly laid. 
 He congratulated himself upon the fact that 
 soon he, too, would have official standing 
 a place at court. He had heard from 
 Bertie Way late the night before that Gen 
 eral Lloyd was no longer openly opposing 
 his appointment. He had not heard of 
 Violet's later request, so he felt that he had 
 only to enjoy the fruits of victory. 
 
 There was a movement among the assem 
 bled diplomats; the dean of the corps had 
 arrived. 
 
 A diplomat's precedence, like a woman's 
 virtue, should not be trifled with. So, in 
 spite of the democratic simplicity of the 
 ceremony, there was considerable delay be 
 fore the ambassadors and envoys, the secre 
 taries and attaches, together with their
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 155 
 
 wives and daughters were sorted out and 
 arranged in their proper places. Mean 
 while phlegmatic Teutons and reticent 
 Britons, swarthy Northmen and saffron- 
 skinned Celestials jostled each other good- 
 naturedly, while impetuous Franks and im 
 perious Spaniards, diminutive Japs and 
 arrogant Slavs chattered in their several 
 tongues and posed resplendent in the cos 
 tumes of their several lands. There were 
 the flowing robes of Oriental envoys, the 
 gilded epaulets and clanking side arms of 
 Occidental attaches, mingling with the 
 diplomatic dresses of many courts, some 
 modest and simple like those of England, 
 others of feudal splendor, glittering with 
 jeweled crosses, sashed with the cordons of 
 chivalric orders the gorgeous liveries of 
 imperial masters. 
 
 And all this old-world splendor was to 
 honor the chief citizen of a republic, a sim 
 ple, open-hearted man who had risen step by 
 step from the soil, a farmer's son, who at 
 the call of the nation had gone forth to 
 battle for the right; a soldier, who, when 
 the war was ended, returned to civil life 
 without fortune or prospect ; a man whose
 
 156 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 only future lay in his indomitable will, his 
 unerring sense of duty to be done. 
 
 Yet there were those like Maitland there 
 Americans all who scorned this man be 
 cause he was unpolished because he was 
 of the soil. There was Maitland, too, who 
 wished to represent his country abroad be 
 cause he did not care to live at home; be 
 cause he hated the simplicity of a democ 
 racy and longed for the pomp and splendor 
 of a court. 
 
 The imposing array of diplomats passed 
 before the President. Maitland and the 
 social elect followed. In marked contrast 
 to the gorgeous ambassadors and envoys 
 was the tall figure of the chief magis 
 trate attired in simple evening clothes with 
 out cordon or cross, without fuss or osten 
 tation. His keen, searching eyes were 
 indicative of the man's power, his clean 
 shaven lip and bearded chin, his thin fea 
 tures and high cheek bones were typical of 
 his race the Puritan. He had a warm 
 shake of the hand and a word of welcome 
 for every comer. 
 
 Maitland knew when he took the Presi 
 dent's hand and met his keen glance that
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 157 
 
 he was being scrutinized ; he felt uncomfort 
 able and was glad to pass on down the line 
 of fluttering petticoats beyond. Violet was 
 there with the "ladies of the cabinet." 
 There was but a moment for a glance of 
 recognition, a pressure of the hand, but in 
 that glance he read more than he had been 
 intended to read. 
 
 He was crowded on by the throng which 
 had been waiting at the main entrance. He 
 had intended to step behind the line where 
 many of his friends already were, but for 
 the moment the crush had been too great 
 and he was borne on with the stream of 
 humanity already filling every crevice of the 
 White House. 
 
 It was a reception by invitation to the 
 diplomatic corps, but all sorts and con 
 ditions of officialdom were in attendance, 
 with their wives and daughters in prepond 
 erance. 
 
 With an amused sneer Maitland gazed 
 about him. Lanky congressmen from 
 lonely districts were there, awkward and 
 uncomfortable in ill-fitting "swallow tails " 
 of shining broadcloth, while their scraggy 
 little wives bobbed and fidgeted and fairly
 
 158 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 oozed importance. Senators and members 
 of renown, men whose names were con 
 stantly before the public, wandered among 
 the crowd receiving the greetings of their 
 admirers with an air of conscious greatness, 
 while visiting constituents were craning 
 their necks and endeavoring not to miss a 
 sight of the exalted. Veterans of the late 
 unpleasantness, grizzled generals and ad 
 mirals, were assembled in force, their bulg 
 ing forms straining the gilded buttons of 
 uniforms but seldom worn, their breasts 
 weighted with badges of various corps, and 
 the insignia of patriotic societies. We 
 Americans are almost childish in our love 
 of distinctive trinkets with which to array 
 ourselves so the retired veterans were not 
 alone in this display. Many a civilian coat 
 was plastered over with ribbons and bau 
 bles, meaningless except to the wearers, 
 but as proudly worn as if bestowed by 
 a grateful nation for bravery on the field of 
 battle or research in the realms of science. 
 There were officers of the army and navy, 
 too, sturdy and erect, in simple uniforms of 
 blue; there were women in low-necked 
 gowns with diamonds galore; there were
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 159 
 
 women in high-necked gowns and mitts ; and 
 mingling with them all were disdainful 
 diplomats, who having passed in review, 
 were making the best of a disagreeable 
 duty, and trying to pick out intimate friends 
 from the motley throng. Through a neigh 
 boring door came the strains of music, and 
 in the distance were the glinting uniforms 
 of the Marine Band. 
 
 Maitland reviewed it all and smiled. This 
 is democracy, he thought. 
 
 "You do n't approve, do you, Mr. Mait 
 land?" said Mrs. Cortland at his elbow. 
 
 "Why, Mrs. Cortland, are you here?" 
 answered Maitland in surprise. 
 
 "Why should I not be here? If I were 
 in Berlin or Rome I should go to court if I 
 were permitted." 
 
 "Ah, but that is different; the rabble 
 does not go to court." 
 
 "So you call this a rabble the men who 
 govern your country, the men who have 
 fought to preserve it?" 
 
 "But look at the clothes they wear, look 
 at the guys those women make of them 
 selves." 
 
 "Mr. Maitland I have you in my power.
 
 160 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 That one remark, repeated to the Presi 
 dent " 
 
 "But Mrs. Cortland would not repeat a 
 remark spoken to her in confidence," said 
 Maitland nervously. 
 
 "Fortunately for you," answered Mrs. 
 Cortland, "it was I who caught you nap 
 ping, not some one else. But honestly, do 
 you think that feeling as you do, you ought 
 to aspire to represent this country?" 
 
 "Possibly not," he answered sarcastic 
 ally. "They should send some rampant 
 Westerner in my place; one who would 
 trample contemptuously upon the tra 
 ditions of the old world, and flaunt his 
 Americanism before the effete monarchs of 
 Europe." 
 
 "It seems to me it must be possible to 
 find a mean between the extremes of snob 
 and boor," said Mrs. Cortland quietly. 
 
 Maitland glared at her angrily. 
 
 "Don't get angry," she laughed, "you 
 brought it on yourself. You attacked and 
 I defended. I happen to be proud of my 
 country, you know." 
 
 She turned away and left him. 
 
 "Damn the woman," he muttered under
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 161 
 
 his breath, "I did express my feelings un 
 guardedly. Fortunately she is not spiteful, 
 whatever else she may be." 
 
 He wandered through the crowd. Phoebe 
 Smith was partly filling a huge arm-chair 
 under the shade of a protecting palm. 
 Maitland stopped to speak to her. 
 
 "I knew I should find her if I looked 
 long enough," he said. 
 
 "Who?" asked Phoebe. 
 
 "The prettiest girl in the room. Can 
 you deny the allegation, Miss Smith?" 
 
 "Don't be absurd, Mr. Maitland," said 
 Phoebe, blushing and trying to look uncon 
 scious. 
 
 "Homage may be fanatical but it is never 
 absurd. Besides what is the use of being 
 beautiful if you are not aware of it?" 
 
 "Perhaps I am aware of it," she said 
 naively. 
 
 "Oh no, you are not," protested Mait 
 land, "your greatest charm is modesty. 
 I hate girls who are self-assertive, girls 
 who enter a room with an air which says 
 'I am here; I am beautiful; now admire 
 me.' ' 
 
 "Why, who does that, Mr. Maitland?"
 
 162 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "I could not be so indiscreet as to tell, 
 Miss Smith." 
 
 "But you might look about you until 
 you see a girl who acts as though she 
 thought she was beautiful." 
 
 "I could not do that. I admire you too 
 much to turn my eyes in any other direc 
 tion." 
 
 "There you go again," blushed Phoebe, 
 "what shall I do to you?" 
 
 "You might tell me where you got that 
 lovely gown." 
 
 "Do you like it? I 'm so glad," she said, 
 looking up into his face with a pleased 
 smile. 
 
 "Yes, it suits you exactly. There isn't 
 one girl in a hundred who knows how to 
 dress. Now that combination of color, Nile 
 green and saffron, it is quite original. And 
 the way it is made, too, that sash across 
 the shoulder, those roses just in the right 
 place, and the simple accordion-plaited 
 skirt; nothing could be more charming." 
 
 "What a lot you know about clothes, 
 Mr. Maitland," said Phoebe admiringly. 
 
 "Yes, I have often thought of setting up 
 as a rival to Worth and Doucet."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 163 
 
 "Why don't you? I will come to you 
 for all my dresses. ' ' 
 
 "That is indeed an inducement. But, 
 joking aside, a girl who does not dress well 
 does n't do anything else well. Now, look 
 at yourself for instance. It must be a satis 
 faction to feel that you have on the pret 
 tiest dress in the room, and that people are 
 looking at you and talking about you." 
 
 "Aren't you taking a great deal for 
 granted, Mr. Maitland? I don't believe a 
 soul is looking at me." 
 
 "I am looking at you, Miss Smith, but 
 perhaps you would not care to count so 
 humble a person among your admirers." 
 
 "I believe you 're making fun of me," 
 said Phoebe peevishly. 
 
 "I, Miss Smith? On the contrary I am 
 serious. Really, I dare not tell you how 
 serious I am." 
 .. She looked up into his eyes. 
 
 "You ought to be more charitable than 
 to look at me like that," he said softly. 
 "It is cruel." 
 
 Phoebe blushed, and turned her eyes 
 away. 
 
 "You are such a funny man," she said.
 
 164 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 ''Here's Phoebe now," said a voice at 
 his elbow. It was the Honorable Silas 
 Smith. Mrs. Smith was with him. 
 
 "We 've been looking everywhere for 
 you, Phoebe," said Mrs. Smith, "your 
 father wants to go home." 
 
 "Oh not yet, mamma! I 'm having 
 such a nice time," protested Phoebe. 
 
 "Your daughter has been very kind to 
 me, Mrs. Smith," said Maitland. "I came 
 here expecting to be bored, and I do n't 
 know when I have been so entertained.' 
 
 "Are you coming or not?" asked the 
 Senator petulantly. 
 
 "Don't be so impatient, dear," an 
 swered his wife, "of course we are coming. 
 Good-night, Mr. Maitland," she added, 
 turning toward Ritchie. "I wonder if you 
 could be persuaded to take a quiet family 
 dinner with us to-morrow we might go to 
 the theatre afterward,, but of course you 
 have an engagement, you are so popular." 
 
 "You embarrass me, Mrs. Smith, for I 
 have no engagement. If I may, I should 
 be delighted to come." 
 
 "Then shall we say seven, so we shall 
 have plenty of time to get to the play?"
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 165 
 
 " Thank you," he said, taking her prof 
 fered hand. 
 
 "Good-night, Mr. Maitland," chirped 
 Phoebe. 
 
 "Good-night, Miss Smith; remember I 
 am terribly in earnest," he whispered as he 
 pressed her little hand. 
 
 "Mr. Maitland has been so amusing, 
 mamma," Phoebe said as she struggled 
 through the crowd. "I think he 's just 
 lovely. I like him so much." 
 
 "Yes, he is such a gentleman," said her 
 mother. "He has such charming man 
 ners." 
 
 Maitland watched Phoebe's disappearing 
 form until it was lost in the crowd. She 
 might not be so bad, he thought, if she 
 only knew how to dress, and was n't such 
 a gullible little fool. 
 
 General Lloyd passed him. "How are 
 you, Maitland?" he said with a nod and a 
 smile. "Terrible crush, isn't it?" 
 
 Maitland was suspicious of this sudden 
 change of manner could Violet have ac 
 complished that, too, he wondered. He 
 stopped to talk with the Junior Senator 
 from his state. Maitland had the gift of
 
 i66 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 reverence. He knew how to make the ex 
 alted talk about themselves, and how to 
 betray appreciative interest. He was a 
 good listener and he never failed to bestow 
 well-tempered praise at the moments when 
 praise was expected. He never expressed 
 his own opinions in the presence of the 
 great, so he had won the good opinion of 
 many a statesman in whom vanity outbal 
 anced perspicacity. 
 
 "I tell you, Maitland, " said the Senator, 
 "the President will not make the London 
 appointment without consulting me. He 
 has as good as promised the place to me 
 and you 're as good as in it." 
 
 "Indeed, sir," said Maitland humbly, 
 "if I receive the appointment I shall owe 
 it entirely to you. You know I am on the 
 outside and I hear what is going on. It is 
 common gossip that you are closer to the 
 President's ear than any man in the Senate. 
 Without your help " 
 
 "There, there, my dear boy, it 's all 
 right, I tell you. I like you; you're a 
 good fellow and I like to help you." 
 
 "I was very much interested, Senator," 
 said Maitland, "reading this morning an
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 167 
 
 account of the bill for the encouragement 
 and development of the American draft 
 horse, you have just introduced. It seems 
 to me that such a bill, should it pass, would 
 revolutionize the horse-breeding industry. 
 It has long been needed." 
 
 "You 're right, sir, it will," replied the 
 Senator with an emphasis calculated to ac 
 centuate his senatorial dignity. "Do you 
 know that under existing conditions the 
 domestic breeder has no chance whatever of 
 competing with his European rival. Unless 
 we place a bounty on draft horses such a 
 thing as an American-bred Percheron will 
 be unknown in ten years. It 's a shame, a 
 disgrace," and so the Senator rambled on 
 for fully fifteen minutes, much to the an- 
 noyment of Maitland, who had no more 
 interest in American draft-horses than he 
 had in domestic flies, but he never failed to 
 inject a remark of appreciation or wonder 
 ment whenever the Senator paused at the 
 end of an impressive sentence. 
 
 When they parted the Junior Senator 
 from Delaware grasped Maitland warmly by 
 the hand and said: "I '11 see the President 
 to-morrow. This New York fellow changes
 
 i68 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 the situation. There is a fight on, but 
 we'll win, my boy; we'll win. I have 
 made it a personal matter, depend on 
 me." 
 
 Maitland expressed well worded and well 
 modulated gratitude; then as the Senator 
 walked away he turned and glanced about 
 him searching the faces of the crowd for 
 some one else whom a judicious word or 
 two might turn to his advantage. He 
 could not help thinking again of his talk 
 with Mrs. Cortland, and the fool he had 
 made of himself by betraying his own feel 
 ings. 
 
 "Hello! Ritchie," said a voice of nasal 
 harshness at his elbow. "I 've been look 
 ing everywhere for you ; was just going to 
 get out a drag-net and a search warrant." 
 
 "Hello! Bertie, what's up?" answered 
 Maitland anxiously. "You look worried." 
 
 "It's too bad, old fellow, but the 
 game's up," said Bertie, pressing Mait 
 land' s hand feelingly. 
 
 "What! Why it can't be!" exclaimed 
 Maitland. 
 
 "But it is, my dear boy. Politics is 
 wondrous peculiar."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 169 
 
 "But you said Lloyd had withdrawn his 
 opposition." 
 
 "So he did." 
 
 "And Duncan had urged my appoint 
 ment." 
 
 "So he did." 
 
 "And the Secretary told you himself he 
 would make no appointment until next 
 week. ' ' 
 
 "So he did." 
 
 "Then why is the game up?" 
 
 "Because the papers were made out to 
 day with Billy Whiting's name on them, 
 and they go to the Senate in the morn 
 ing." 
 
 "The devil!" exclaimed Maitland. "I 
 can 't understand it." 
 
 "No more can I," said Bertie philo 
 sophically. "But some one has seen the 
 President since last night. Some one has 
 induced him to act quickly. Who is that 
 some one?" 
 
 "General Lloyd," said Maitland confi 
 dently. 
 
 "How do you know." 
 
 "By the way he smiled at me to 
 night."
 
 170 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Well, I admit the General is pretty 
 slick. But, whoever it is, the jig is up; 
 there is nothing for you to do but lie low 
 and lay for something else. London is n't 
 the only job in the world." 
 
 "Never mind, Bertie, you stood by me," 
 Maitland said, shaking Bertie's hand warmly. 
 "I shall not forget that. As you say, 
 politics 'is wondrous peculiar '." 
 
 "And you 're too old a cat to cry over 
 spilled milk," answered Bertie in a cheer 
 ing tone. "Let 's go to the club and have 
 a drink." 
 
 Maitland followed Bertie through the 
 crowd. If he had been less politic, less a 
 man of the world, he would have betrayed 
 his disappointment more keenly. His 
 fondest hopes were shattered ; his deep laid 
 schemes, the work of months, had come to 
 naught; but he bowed and smiled at his 
 friends as he passed, and even stopped to 
 pay a compliment, or to exchange light 
 shafts of badinage with such women as Mrs. 
 Love and Mrs. Elliott. At one moment he 
 hesitated. He was on the point of appeal 
 ing to Violet with the hope that there was
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 171 
 
 yet time to keep his rival's name from go 
 ing before the Senate, but he pressed his 
 lips together firmly and followed Bertie 
 Way. It was not his nature to appeal: to a 
 woman ; to plead for help.
 
 XII 
 
 "I DO NOT KNOW WHAT WITCHCRAFT'S IN HIM." 
 
 Coriolanus, IV. 7. 
 
 Maitland's coldness at the White House 
 annoyed Violet. She had looked forward 
 to meeting him after her duties were fin 
 ished, but he had gone home without a 
 word of apology or regret. It was not like 
 Ritchie, she thought. He had never since 
 the first hour of their acquaintance left 
 without saying good-night. She went 
 home disappointed. Count Joam de Al 
 buquerque, with old-world punctilious 
 ness, placed her in her carriage, and she 
 forgot to thank him an unpardonable 
 breach for one so thoughtful as Violet. It 
 was but a step across the square to her 
 house, but during the momentary drive she 
 tried to explain Ritchie's conduct. It was 
 only yesterday that he had told her of his 
 love. Yet, at Komlossy's dinner and at 
 the White House he had avoided her. 
 What did it mean? He could not know 
 172
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 173 
 
 that she had opposed his appointment; 
 there had not been time. She reached the 
 house without having found a satisfactory 
 solution to her quandary. 
 
 Her father was in the library, working as 
 usual. He had stolen away from the White 
 House early to snatch a few more mo 
 ments for the toils of office. There were 
 few Cabinet officers as conscientious as 
 he; society played a meagre role in his 
 career. 
 
 "Well, Violet, back already?" he said, 
 glancing up from his desk. "Isn't this 
 early for you? I 've only just come in my 
 self." 
 
 "I was tired and bored," Violet an 
 swered, stifling a yawn. "I do n't know of 
 anything I hate so much as standing up in 
 line, and shaking hands with a horde of 
 people I never expect to meet again." 
 
 "Being in office is not what it is cracked 
 up to be, is it, Violet?" 
 
 "No, but it is better than being out of 
 office. At least that was the way I used 
 to feel when I was hoping you would be 
 appointed." 
 
 "By the way, speaking of office," said
 
 174 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 the Secretary, "your friend Maitland's 
 hopes are blasted. The Secretary of State 
 told me to-night that Whiting's appoint 
 ment is going to the Senate in the morning, 
 unless I continued my opposition." 
 
 Violet' was startled. She had not ex 
 pected this news so soon. "Did you with 
 draw your opposition?" she asked anx 
 iously. 
 
 "I said that, while continuing my sup 
 port of Maitland, I would not go to the ex 
 tent of opposing further an appointment 
 which was evidently his wish. It would 
 have been undignified for me to change 
 front completely." 
 
 "Yes, Pater, I am glad you did it that 
 way," Violet answered hastily. "Ritchie 
 will never know now," she thought. 
 "General Lloyd will never tell." 
 
 Secretary Duncan scrutinized his daugh 
 ter carefully. "Are you quite sure," he 
 asked after a moment, "that you did not 
 wish Mr. Maitland appointed? You were 
 so anxious at first." 
 
 "Yes, I am quite sure," said Violet 
 cheerfully, "and I shall never meddle with 
 appointments again."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 175 
 
 "Are you quite sure of that?" he an 
 swered with a malicious smile. 
 
 "You bad Pater," she said with a reprov 
 ing frown. "Did I ever ask you to help 
 any one but just this once, and then I 
 changed my mind." 
 
 "Next time change your mind before 
 you make me go tramping up to the White 
 House." 
 
 "Good-night, cross patch," she an 
 swered, with a petulant toss of her head. 
 Then she kissed him and ran hurriedly out 
 of the room. 
 
 There were some letters for her on the 
 hall table. One bore the postmark "Fort 
 Riley, Kansas." It was from Jack Hardy. 
 She took it up hurriedly. ' ' Dear old Jack, ' ' 
 she exclaimed. "He never forgets me." 
 Without breaking the seal of Hardy's let 
 ter, she went to her room. When she had 
 taken off her dress, and made herself com 
 fortable, she settled herself in her favorite 
 chair and opened the letter. 
 
 But she did not begin reading immedi 
 ately. Unfolding the sheets, she smoothed 
 them out carefully on her lap. 
 
 Did Ritchie know that she had used her
 
 iy6 .. THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 
 
 influence to help his rival? That was the 
 question over which she was pondering. 
 She was ashamed of her conduct, ashamed 
 of having done anything so underhand. 
 She longed to go to him and ask forgive 
 ness. A foolish whim had perhaps ruined 
 his future. What reason had she for doubt 
 ing him? He had been honest and frank; 
 he had told her that he cared more for her 
 than for any woman in the world. What 
 had she done in return? Acted against 
 him defeated him. And why? Merely 
 because of her fear that perhaps he loved 
 her for what she could do for him an un 
 worthy, unjustifiable fear, of which she was 
 heartily ashamed. 
 
 Shetookup Jack's letter and began to read. 
 
 It was a simple, straightforward account 
 of his life at Riley his new duties the 
 gossip of the garrison his new friends. 
 Mrs. Simpkins, his captain's wife, had been 
 very kind to him, having enrolled him 
 among the favored young men she called 
 her "children." She was young and very 
 pretty a superb horsewoman. When she 
 went riding, she was always followed by 
 several of her "children." She hated
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS . 177 
 
 Riley, and every post west of the Alle- 
 ghanies, and she was moving heaven and 
 earth to get a diplomatic appointment for 
 her husband. But she made the mistake 
 of talking about it too much. 
 
 Violet pictured this woman to herself a 
 silly garrison flirt just the kind to turn the 
 heads of young subalterns, and make a fool 
 of a simple, honest fellow ( like Jack. 
 
 She found herself hating this woman 
 this Mrs. Simpkins, with her troop of "chil 
 dren." Then she laughed. How foolish! 
 "If she can make Jack forget me, I ought 
 to be very grateful to her." But it is diffi 
 cult for a woman to forgive the one who 
 supplants her in the affection of even a dis 
 carded lover. 
 
 Violet continued reading. Riley was 
 active enough, and there was a great deal 
 of work to be done, but it was too civilized ; 
 he longed to go campaigning again; he 
 wished there w-sre hostilities somewhere, 
 with real soldiering to be done. 
 
 The same old Jack, she thought. Still 
 longing for the impossible; still tilting 
 against the windmills of civilization. If 
 he would only marry some nice girl ; some
 
 178 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 girl like she hesitated. No, she did not 
 care to think of Jack as a married man. 
 She was jealous of this possible wife a dog- 
 in-the-manger sort of jealousy, she thought, 
 utterly absurd and unjustifiable. 
 
 She read on until she reached the closing 
 sentence. 
 
 "Violet, dear," it ran, "wherever you 
 are, whatever you are doing, I want you to 
 feel that I believe in you that I worship 
 you. You are the best friend a man ever 
 had and I had no right to expect that you 
 could be more than a friend. Please for 
 give me for loving you I could not help it 
 I know that I shall love you always. 
 
 JACK." 
 
 Tears came into her eyes. She folded 
 the letter carefully and replaced it in the 
 envelope. She was thinking of the mo 
 ment when she had said to him, "I am not 
 like other women, I am colder, more unim 
 pressionable. I think I care for you more 
 than I care for any man more than I have 
 ever cared." 
 
 How little a girl knows of her own self, 
 she thought. She saw the desperate, de 
 termined look in Jack's eyes when he said,
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 179 
 
 "I could not marry you, Violet, not when 
 you look at me like that." 
 
 He realized that love was something 
 more than mere affection and pity. There 
 had been affection and pity in her heart 
 that day, but there had been no quicken 
 ing of the pulses at the touch of his lips. 
 She thought of Ritchie Maitland. Did she 
 love him? Did she respect him? She 
 shuddered. "No! No!" she cried, "a 
 thousand times no! I do not love him. I 
 doubt him. I have always doubted him. 
 He fascinates me. He charms me. I love 
 to look into his eyes. I love to hear his 
 voice, but I am afraid of him afraid of the 
 power he has over me." 
 
 She covered her face with her hands and 
 tried to think more clearly. "If I marry 
 that man, I shall be made wretched for life. 
 He does not ring true. I know it as surely 
 as I know anything. Why can 't I control 
 myself when I am with him why can 't I 
 think clearly as I do now?" 
 
 Violet's thoughts were the analysis of her 
 feelings. She did not love Ritchie Mait 
 land as a woman should love the man she 
 intends to marry. There was always some-
 
 i8o THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 thing which held her back something 
 which stifled love; it was mistrust. In her 
 calmer thoughts, Ritchie Maitland had 
 never ceased to be the magnetic counterfeit 
 she once thought him the selfish, design 
 ing Casal of Bourget's novel, whose power 
 lay in his boldness, in his gentle, insinuating 
 manner; in those mysterious eyes she could 
 never read. When she was with him, she 
 felt like a helpless bird charmed by a beau 
 tiful reptile, who would some day coil 
 about her and crush her. The feeling she 
 had for Jack Hardy was more nearly what 
 love should be, but it lacked the pulse 
 beats. Those were for Ritchie Maitland. 
 When he entered a room she knew it in 
 stinctively, though her back was turned ; if 
 he did not come to her immediately, she 
 became impatient and preoccupied ; she be 
 grudged the moments he spent with others. 
 He exerted a curious power over her, and 
 what was worse, she felt that he realized 
 the strength of his magnetism. 
 
 Her sudden resolution to defeat his ap 
 pointment, and test the sincerity of his 
 affection was a wild, ill-considered attempt 
 to free herself from his influence. She
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 181 
 
 wished to drag aside the mask, and prove 
 to herself conclusively the character of the 
 man. She forgot for the moment the light 
 in which her action placed her. When she 
 realised that she had voluntarily espoused 
 his cause, and then suddenly used her in 
 fluence to defeat his appointment, she could 
 not find terms too bitter for the condemna 
 tion of her conduct. She was the culprit 
 the one who had resorted to duplicity with 
 no more reason than mere suspicion. But 
 should her suspicions prove true, should 
 she demonstrate conclusively, that Ritchie 
 Maitland had found in her the means of 
 securing her father's support? She dared 
 not think how she should feel if that were 
 true and she dared not change her course, 
 cowardly as it might be, until she had 
 learned the truth. 
 
 But Violet was not in love with Ritchie 
 Maitland ; she was merely dangerously near 
 the point where, forgetting her fears, for 
 getting her ideals, she might succumb to 
 the sort of witchcraft which many another 
 woman has mistaken for love, only to real 
 ise in after moments that it was merely 
 fascination.
 
 XIII 
 
 "ANOTHER EMBASSY." 
 Merry Wives of Windsor, III. j. 
 
 There was a small cotillon at the Polish 
 embassy the evening following the White 
 House reception. It was not an official 
 crush, for society at large was pacified by 
 the annual embassy ball; on the contrary, 
 the list had been kept small, and in conse 
 quence there were many heart-burnings. 
 
 Poniaminski was in his element. He was 
 merely the second secretary, but in the case 
 of a social function, he was the autocrat, in 
 whose hands was placed the destiny of Po 
 land. It is true, the dignified ambassador 
 and his dumpy wife received the guests at 
 the head of the stairs, but their duties 
 ceased with that perfunctory ceremony. 
 All else was Poniaminski. Even the fierce- 
 looking chancellor, at whose frown the 
 young attaches trembled, acknowledging 
 his inferiority, was content to strut about 
 with the cross of Saint Stanislas around his 
 182
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 183 
 
 neck, and a string of minor baubles dangling 
 "en brochette," and leave the details of the 
 occasion to the ubiquitous second secretary. 
 
 Poniaminski had done everything. He 
 had stationed the gorgeous flunkies at their 
 posts; he had chosen the supper menu, 
 superintended the cooling of the cham 
 pagne, selected the favors, arranged the 
 flowers, discussed the musical selections 
 with the leader of the band, and directed 
 the waxing of the floor; in fact, he had 
 stepped boldly into the breach, and saved 
 the day for Poland. What sort of a dance 
 would the ambassador and chancellor give 
 if left to themselves? He shuddered at the 
 thought. 
 
 Now that every detail was complete, and 
 the elect of Washington were streaming up 
 the stairs between two lines of sombre 
 footmen in gala liveries, Poniaminski found 
 that his duties were but commencing. The 
 ambassador, with increasing age, was losing 
 his memory for faces, and his wife spoke no 
 English and very bad French, so that upon 
 the second secretary devolved the duty of 
 mingling among the guests, and dispersing 
 those little phrases of personal compliment,
 
 184 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 so meaningless in themselves but so neces 
 sary to the success of an entertainment. 
 
 "You look worried, 'Pony,' " said Mrs. 
 Jack Elliott, as the little Pole approached 
 her. 
 
 "Worried, Madame. Je suis demote. 
 There is nothing left of me." 
 
 "Of course you did it all," said Mrs. 
 Elliott admiringly. "There is no one else 
 in the embassy capable of organizing such 
 a success." 
 
 "I have only done what others have 
 refused to do." 
 
 "Come, now, confess," laughed Mrs. 
 Elliott. "You have only done what others 
 could not do. Why, the ambassador is an 
 old fossil." 
 
 "He is my chief, Madame," said Ponia- 
 minski, with an expostulatory gesture. 
 
 "And his wife," continued Mrs. Elliott, 
 leaning toward him and whispering. " Elle 
 est cuisiniere malgre' elle. 
 
 "Ah, Madame," said Poniaminski, rais 
 ing his harids in horror. "How can you 
 say such things." But the horror was per 
 functory; Poniaminski relished the com-
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 185 
 
 parison ; he had no love for the wife of his 
 chief, and Mrs. Elliott knew it. 
 
 "Come, confess, you believe it, too," 
 she said. 
 
 "Never!" answered the little Pole. "I 
 am going away. I cannot even listen to 
 such treason." 
 
 "Then be sure and save me a good seat. 
 I 'm going to dance with Captain Sharp." 
 
 "What, after all those calumnies?" 
 
 "Certainly. You heard what I said 
 about your chief. I '11 say worse things 
 about you if you do n't give me the best 
 seat in the room." 
 
 "In that case it shall be yours, even if 
 the wife of the Secretary of State has to sit 
 on the floor." 
 
 With a nod of farewell, he stepped away, 
 and in a moment was pouring polite plati 
 tudes into the ear of that helpmate of the 
 State Department, whose dignity he had 
 just grossly offended. 
 
 Mrs. Elliott turned away. She did not 
 wish to accentuate the fact that she was left 
 alone, so she walked toward Mrs. Love, 
 who, for the moment, was in the same pre 
 dicament.
 
 i86 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "I came all the way across the room to 
 tell you how much I admire your gown," 
 said Mrs. Elliott. 
 
 "You dear thing, I 'm so glad you like 
 it." 
 
 "It's perfectly lovely. Worth, of 
 course." 
 
 "No, Paquin." 
 
 "Oh, look!" said Mrs. Elliott suddenly, 
 pressing Mrs. Love's hand. "There comes 
 Ritchie Maitland, as unconcerned as though 
 nothing had happened ; you know he failed 
 to get his appointment." 
 
 "No did he?" 
 
 "Yes. Young Whiting's name went to 
 the Senate to-day." 
 
 "Well, I must say I 'm glad of it," said 
 Mrs. Love with emphasis. 
 
 "You ought to be sorry for the poor fel 
 low. You know he 's a pauper. What will 
 he do now?" 
 
 "Marry Phoebe Smith." 
 
 "She would n't have him." 
 
 "She might; that girl is foolish enough 
 to do anything." 
 
 "Do you know what I think about it?" 
 said Mrs. Elliott, in a confidential whisper.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 187 
 
 "I think Violet Duncan is head over heels 
 in love with Ritchie Maitland." 
 
 "Nonsense. I do n't believe it." 
 
 "Just watch her." 
 
 "And he?" 
 
 "Doesn't care a straw for her or any 
 other woman. He 's too utterly selfish to 
 care for any one but himself." 
 
 "Why, I thought you liked him," ex 
 postulated Mrs. Love. 
 
 "So I do, but that doesn't prevent my 
 understanding him, does it?" 
 
 But a pretty woman like Mrs. Elliott 
 cannot be left alone for many minutes. 
 Already Count Joam de Albuquerque and 
 a young ensign were approaching from op 
 posite directions. The ensign being the 
 nimbler of the two captured Mrs. Elliott, 
 and the Portuguese was left with no alter 
 native but to speak to Mrs. Love. 
 
 Violet was talking with General Lloyd 
 when Maitland entered the room. Her 
 back was toward the door, but instinctively 
 she turned her head. Their eyes met ; she 
 nodded, and he returned the greeting rather 
 coldly, she thought. 
 
 "I suppose you have heard that your in-
 
 1 88 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 structions have been carried out," said Gen 
 eral Lloyd. 
 
 "I have heard that Mr. Whiting's name 
 has gone to the Senate, but not that you 
 were responsible for the appointment," said 
 Violet deliberately. 
 
 "I always endeavor to have my efforts 
 labeled 'not for publication.' It is wiser, 
 you know." 
 
 "Then I have to thank you," she said, 
 with an attempt at appearing indifferent. 
 
 "Unless you already regret my action," 
 the General answered, somewhat pointedly. 
 
 "Why should I?" 
 
 "Because it is a woman's privilege to 
 change her mind." 
 
 "Well, I have changed my mind," said 
 Violet suddenly. "I am heartily ashamed 
 of myself for acting as I did. I intend to 
 tell Mr. Maitland that I used my influence 
 against him, and ask him to forgive me." 
 
 "Precious little good your death-bed 
 repentance will do after the deed is done," 
 answered the General coldly. 
 
 "It will ease my conscience," said Vio 
 let. 
 
 "My dear Miss Duncan, ex post facto
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 189 
 
 conscience is either the fear of discovery, 
 or a romantic desire for pardon; real con 
 science is a restraining power, not a regret." 
 
 "Then you think I am either a coward or 
 a fool," said Violet indignantly. 
 
 "On the contrary. I think you are 
 merely over-sensitive. Let your casuistry 
 be Jesuitical when the subject is a man.*' 
 
 "And you would advise?" 
 
 "That you impress Mr. Maitland with 
 the fact that you did everything in your 
 power to secure his appointment." 
 
 Violet looked at General Lloyd perplex 
 edly. "Why do you counsel such deceit?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "That is where the Jesuitry comes in; 
 you will learn to know Mr. Maitland better 
 that way. The end justifies the means." 
 
 "The last time I saw you," she answered 
 with a forced laugh, "you wished me to 
 break my heart. Now you wish me to 
 stifle my conscience. What is the next 
 part of me you would like to destroy?" 
 
 "Your faith in anything in the shape of 
 man." 
 
 - _ / ^., the
 
 190 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 General answered humorously, "that I do 
 not need the faith of others." 
 
 The conversation had lost its serious tone, 
 and Violet turned it quickly into more 
 frivolous channels. She did not wish him 
 to discuss Ritchie Maitland further. 
 
 General Lloyd affected Violet strangely. 
 She felt drawn toward him in a curious man 
 ner; she had an intuitive feeling that he 
 understood her; that in some way he was 
 to influence her life. When, a moment 
 later, Dick Willing led her toward the 
 ball-room, she turned and looked at him, 
 and tried to analyze her impressions. His 
 appearance was distinguished of that there 
 could be no doubt. He had the bearing of 
 the well-bred New Yorker a mingling of 
 confidence and suavity, emphasized by irre 
 proachable dress, and the manners of 
 esoteric society. His straight, command 
 ing figure and the well brushed white hair 
 and mustache, contrasting strongly with his 
 florid skin, gave him the unmistakable ap 
 pearance of a military man, though thirty 
 years had passed since he had seen service. 
 But he had a sensuous face, with cruel eyes, 
 and his cold, penetrating personality was 

 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 191 
 
 distasteful to Violet ; his character, as she 
 understood it, was repulsive. 
 
 He was the clever, unscrupulous "boss " 
 of New York politics, who, by repeatedly 
 declining office for himself, and never fail 
 ing to reward a friend or crush an enemy, 
 had become the idol of party workers and 
 the consternation of would-be rivals. So, 
 in spite of great wealth and social position, 
 he had retained his power beyond the ordi 
 nary time allotment of a political career. 
 But his private life was not above reproach ; 
 even Violet had heard vague rumors reflect 
 ing upon the treatment of his wife. She 
 had died of a broken heart because of his 
 attentions to a well-known actress. It was 
 something of that sort but such aspersions 
 count for little in the cosmopolitan world, 
 and a man's infidelity means little to a 
 woman unless she be the sufferer. 
 
 These were the thoughts that passed 
 through Violet's mind as she wandered 
 toward the ball-room. Soon she was glid 
 ing among the throng of dancers, but she 
 found it difficult to pay attention to Dick 
 Willing's prattle. Ritchie Maitland had 
 not yet spoken to her; in spite of General
 
 192 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 Lloyd's casuistry, her conscience still 
 troubled her. 
 
 After the dance was finished, Maitland 
 came toward her. He spoke to her in 
 differently, almost coldly, she thought. 
 
 "May I have the next dance?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes," she faltered turning her eyes 
 away. 
 
 "I am very grateful for your help," he 
 said suddenly. "It was useless though; 
 the game is up. New York politics, you 
 know. However, you did the best you 
 could, you were a true friend." 
 
 "Friend, Ritchie! Do you know all that 
 I did," she asked in astonishment. 
 
 "I know that you induced your father to 
 act in my behalf, and that General Lloyd 
 withdrew his opposition the day before the 
 appointment was made. You could not 
 have done more, could you? but there were 
 stronger influences at work somewhere. It 
 was not to be." 
 
 "I did not act as a friend," she said sud 
 denly, looking him full in the face. 
 
 He turned his eyes away "Please do n't 
 talk about it any more, " he said. "lam 
 deeply grateful, believe me I am, but it is
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 193 
 
 not a pleasant topic to me just at present, 
 I want to forget about it. Come, we shall 
 miss this dance." 
 
 Violet checked the confession which had 
 been on her lips. She knew better than if 
 she had been told in words that Ritchie 
 Maitland was assuming a new role. His 
 manner was not that of an injured man, it 
 was cold and guarded ; he was acting on the 
 defensive ; he was trying to establish a new 
 kind of intimacy a sort of distant familiar 
 ity. His manner chilled her, there was no 
 thought of confession now. The old mis 
 trust had returned, and anger was the 
 dominant feeling in her heart. 
 
 "I 'm getting too old for dancing," said 
 Maitland, as they emerged from a crowd of 
 waltzers. 
 
 She did not reply. She was thinking of 
 another time when she had danced with 
 him. She had closed her eyes then as they 
 waltzed to enchanting music, and in the 
 darkness it had seemed that she was being 
 carried dreamily on toward some great dan 
 ger. Now, she asked herself if that fear 
 had not been realised. 
 
 "Why are you so quiet to-night?"
 
 194 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 Maitland asked. His voice was almost 
 tender. 
 
 "I do n't feel like talking. I have noth 
 ing to talk about," she said. 
 
 "You might comfort me a little for my 
 failure. You have n't even said you were 
 sorry." 
 
 "I thought the subject was painful to 
 you," she answered coldly. "You said so, 
 at least." 
 
 He laughed. "Not nearly so painful as 
 to be made to feel that I am so very far 
 from your thoughts." 
 
 They had stopped dancing. Violet 
 turned and looked at Maitland. She was 
 on the point of reproving him but she 
 checked herself. 
 
 "Did you find Phoebe Smith amusing 
 this afternoon?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes, very; but how did you know I 
 was there." 
 
 "I happened to see you going up the 
 steps with a flower in your buttonhole, and 
 an anxious look on your face." 
 
 "Phoebe is a nice little thing. I went 
 there to ask her to dance the cotillon with
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 195 
 
 me to-night. The Smiths have gone out of 
 their way to be kind to me lately." 
 
 "Are you always kind to the people who 
 are kind to you," she asked. 
 
 "Yes, and cruel to those who are cruel 
 to me," he said looking into her eyes. 
 
 "How easily you must be led. I thought 
 you were more independent than that." 
 
 "I don't believe in independence," he 
 said; "loyalty is my motto." 
 
 "To whom?" 
 
 "To those I care for." 
 
 "It should not be difficult to be loyal 
 only to yourself." 
 
 "How very sarcastic we are to-night," 
 said Maitland with a laugh. "You will 
 force me to a declaration of independence 
 if you are going to treat me like that. How 
 would you like it if I were to transfer my 
 allegiance to Phoebe Smith?" 
 
 "I should sympathize with Phoebe 
 Smith," she said bitterly. Then pride got 
 the mastery. She was ashamed of having 
 shown such feeling. "I should sympathize 
 with her," she added, "because I should 
 know that the allegiance was merely tern-
 
 196 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 porary I have too much faith in you to 
 believe that you would desert a friend." 
 
 "Now, you are talking like a sensible 
 girl," he said. "I began to think you had 
 forgotten." 
 
 "Once a friend always a friend," she an 
 swered. Count Joam de Albuquerque 
 came to claim a dance. "Will you come 
 and see me to-morrow?" she said to Mait- 
 land, cordially. "I shall be home after 
 five." 
 
 "If I may," he answered as she was 
 whirled away in the dizzy, old-world fashion 
 by the Portuguese. He followed her with 
 his eyes. "I might love that girl," he said 
 to himself, "if I only dared, but beggars 
 can *t afford to be choosers in this day and 
 generation." 
 
 Then he turned away and walked toward 
 Phoebe Smith, who tried to look uncon 
 scious when she saw him coming. 
 
 The cotillon was commencing. Ponia- 
 minski led with dash and spirit, throwing 
 all the energy of his fiery little self into the 
 work. Soon he had maids and matrons, 
 youths and antediluvians romping about 
 the ball-room like so many children at a
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 197 
 
 May-day festival. Each figure was original, 
 and there were continuous surprises in 
 tended to put people in good humor and 
 make them forget the dignity of official 
 dom. Women who had not danced for 
 years went tearing about the room as Ponia- 
 minski led them through intricate mazes of 
 tulle and ribbons. They had only come as 
 spectators, but when nimble senators of 
 sixty dragged them out on the floor, there 
 was nothing to be done but to enter into 
 the spirit of the occasion. Dick Willing 
 looked on in wonder; he was the recognized 
 leader of cotillons, but the little Pole was 
 showing him a pace that was fairly appal 
 ling. It was a romp pure and simple. It 
 is surprising how quickly dignity can be 
 laid aside when the effort is spontaneous. 
 But at the stately Polish embassy such radi 
 calism was startling. The Ambassador and 
 his wife were in dismay ; but when they saw 
 the Hungarian minister and a senator on 
 their knees at the same time bobbing for 
 apples, and laughing like schoolboys, they 
 made up their minds that perhaps, after all, 
 Poniaminski knew something about such 
 matters.
 
 198 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 Violet forced herself into the spirit of the 
 occasion. She was always on the floor, 
 dancing with all the fervor of which she was 
 capable ; favors were showered upon her by 
 the young men and the old ; Dick Willing 
 beamed contentedly, for it was always a 
 satisfaction to him to dance with the belle 
 of the ball. Intuition told her more plainly 
 than words that Ritchie Maitland was avoid 
 ing her. He favored her in the first figure, 
 and once when he happened to be in her 
 end of the room he took her out; but 
 everything he said was spoken reservedly. 
 He alluded to their friendship, but the 
 word "friendship " was pronounced with 
 cold deliberation. 
 
 Violet laughed and chatted with him, and 
 did everything in her power to prevent his 
 suspecting that she read his thoughts. She 
 favored him herself, just to be able to tell 
 him that she had never had such a good 
 time at a dance and to tease him about 
 Phoebe Smith. She claimed, as a confi 
 dential friend, the privilege of knowing how 
 his suit was progressing. Could she help him 
 by speaking a word in his favor to Phoebe? 
 If so, he might command her services,
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 199 
 
 Maitland accepted this assumed indiffer 
 ence gratefully. He was afraid he had 
 gone so far in his spurious love-making that 
 it would be difficult to retire gracefully. 
 Whatever her feelings were, she had opened 
 the line of retreat so dexterously that he 
 could not help admiring her cleverness. 
 
 Violet went to supper with General 
 Lloyd. Mrs. Cortland and Komlossy were 
 at the same table. Near them were Mait 
 land and Phoebe Smith at a little table h deux. 
 
 "Umph!" said the Hungarian when he 
 had consumed his last oyster. "Having 
 failed as a place hunter, Ritchie Maitland 
 seems to have become a wife hunter." 
 
 "He will find the one quite as futile as 
 the other, I fancy," said General Lloyd. 
 "Mrs. Smith aspires to a dukedom at least 
 for Phoebe." 
 
 "I can 't see why Phoebe should not 
 marry him," said Violet, "can you, Mrs. 
 Cortland?" 
 
 Mrs. Cortland looked at Violet keenly; 
 she was trying to discover whether her in 
 difference was assumed. 
 
 "No," she answered. "Phoebe has 
 money enough for both."
 
 200 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "He has been quite attentive to her 
 lately," Violet continued. "I have chaffed 
 him about her a great deal." 
 
 "I recommended the match some time 
 ago," said Komlossy. "If it comes off I 
 shall claim a ten per cent, commission." 
 
 "Why is it that the world finds fault with 
 a man who marries for money?" asked Vio 
 let. "For my part, I think the poor should 
 marry the rich, and the rich the poor; it 
 makes a more equitable distribution of 
 wealth." 
 
 "That is reducing marriage to a business 
 basis," answered Mrs. Cortland. 
 
 "It should have some basis, else what is 
 the use of it?" Violet replied. "Love is 
 so terribly out of fashion nowadays." 
 
 "When young girls become cynics," in 
 terrupted General Lloyd, "it is time for us 
 old fellows to become saints, if the world is 
 to be saved from absolute perdition. Eh! 
 Komlossy." 
 
 "Bah!" grunted the minister. "A saint 
 has a feeble mind, and a cynic a weak diges 
 tion. I prefer to take to the woods." 
 
 "Before you do that," said Mrs. Cort 
 land, "please tell us why Miss Duncan is
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 201 
 
 trying to marry her friend Ritchie Maitland 
 to Phoebe Smith. I confess I cannot un 
 derstand it." 
 
 "Because she has become a convert to 
 my belief, is it not, Miss Duncan?" inter 
 rupted General Lloyd. 
 
 "Yes, to the extent of becoming a Jes 
 uit." 
 
 "A Jesuit!" exclaimed Mrs. Cortland. 
 "Explain." 
 
 "We Jesuits never explain, we merely 
 dissimulate," answered the General. 
 
 "And you, Violet, have you accepted 
 such a creed?" asked Mrs. Cortland. 
 
 "I have decided that dissimulation is a 
 means sometimes justified by the end." 
 
 "Even that doctrine could not justify 
 the placing of veal in this terrapin," said 
 Komlossy. 
 
 "But I suppose it would justify Ritchie 
 Maitland in making love to Phoebe Smith," 
 said Mrs. Cortland eyeing Violet. 
 
 "Mr. Maitland is a very dear friend of 
 mine. I wish you would stop attacking 
 him," Violet answered coldly. 
 
 "What is the matter with you to-night, 
 Violet?" asked Mrs. Cortland. "You 've
 
 202 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 had a chip on your shoulder the entire 
 evening." 
 
 "Miss Duncan is a Jesuit by her own 
 confession," said Komlossy. "She is 
 merely dissimulating in reality she is in 
 the best of moods." 
 
 "You have guessed it," laughed Violet. 
 "Now let us all talk about the weather. 
 That is very bad to-night. So I am bound 
 by my creed to take a cheerful view of it." 
 
 Criminals and lovers have the common 
 habit of seeking concealment in boldness. 
 They imagine that indifference and bravado 
 will throw the inquisitous off the scent. 
 Maitland's coolness had come so suddenly 
 after his ardent professions of two days be 
 fore that Violet was stunned as by a sudden 
 blow. She had not time to analyze her 
 own feelings; her one desire was to hide 
 from him and from the world the fact that 
 he was uppermost in her thoughts, but her 
 efforts were so forced that Mrs. Cortland 
 easily suspected the truth. She pitied Vio 
 let, but she was hopeful that a greater dan 
 ger the danger of being united for life to 
 such a man had been averted. 
 
 General Lloyd, also, with his keenness
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 203 
 
 for reading human nature, understood the 
 situation. He had besides been a partial 
 confidant, and an important actor in the 
 events of the last few days. When supper 
 was over he walked with Violet back to the 
 ball-room. 
 
 "It is too soon to begin dancing," he 
 said, as they passed through an ante-room 
 where there was a divan and a Moorish 
 lantern burning dimly. "Let us sit here a 
 while." 
 
 "Do you remember what I told you at 
 Komlossy's?" he said when they had 
 seated themselves. 
 
 "You said that the ways of women were 
 past finding out," she replied. 
 
 "Not always. There are times when one 
 can read a woman more clearly than a book ; 
 but that was not what I referred to." 
 
 "Ah! I remember now," she answered 
 with a laugh. "You said you were jealous 
 of Ritchie Maitland." 
 
 "I was jealous of him then, but I fear 
 you will have to guess again." 
 
 "I was never good at conundrums." 
 
 "Well, I told you," said the General 
 lowering his voice, "that it was wise for a
 
 204 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 woman to get over being in love before she 
 is married." 
 
 "Do you think I am beginning to fall in 
 love?" asked Violet. "Is that why you 
 proffer this advice?" 
 
 General Lloyd looked at Violet. "I 
 think you are beginning to get over being 
 in love," he said slowly. 
 
 "Oh, really!" she answered. "I sup 
 pose when you consider the process finished 
 you will advise matrimony." 
 
 "Exactly!" said the General. "Then 
 you will be able to appreciate the advan 
 tages of a judicious marriage." 
 
 "Well, I am not in love," exclaimed Vio 
 let, "and I don't know a single man I 
 should be willing to marry." 
 
 "I see you are intent upon waiting until 
 your heart is broken." 
 
 "I intend waiting until I find the man 
 whom I can love." 
 
 "Man proposes and God disposes, only 
 sometimes man does n't propose." 
 
 "You are not complimentary, to say the 
 least," she answered indignantly. 
 
 "Possibly not, but I am very obliging, 
 especially to a woman I admire devoutly.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 205 
 
 So, if you need my help in any of your 
 schemes, you may count upon it. You 
 may wish to be revenged." 
 
 Violet looked at him in astonishment. 
 "You are certainly talking enigmas to 
 night. I do n't understand you." 
 
 "You may understand me better before 
 long. A great deal can happen in a few 
 days. Remember you have in me a 
 devoted friend, who will brave fire and 
 water and the President's wrath if you 
 wish it." 
 
 "I thank you," she answered. "But I 
 shall not meddle with politics again." 
 
 "Never make resolutions; then you will 
 be saved the trouble of breaking them. 
 
 "What a cynical person you arc," she said 
 looking up suddenly. "Do you not believe 
 in anything?" 
 
 "I believe in you." 
 
 "In me! How absurd." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose it is absurd for an old 
 fellow like me to believe in anything, even 
 a beautiful girl; but one must have some 
 idol, and my idol is you." He said this 
 casually, without the slightest appearance 
 of seriousness.
 
 206 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Remember, General, idols have stone 
 hearts," laughed Violet. 
 
 "In that case, I prefer to consider you a 
 goddess," he answered. 
 
 "Most of the goddesses I have read about 
 had very unsavory reputations." 
 
 He looked at her intently. "When your 
 own idols are shattered," he answered earn 
 estly, "you may realise that being the god 
 dess of a fanatical old worshiper is not a 
 bad fate." 
 
 "The music is commencing," said Violet. 
 "I must go back to my seat." 
 
 General Lloyd frowned, but he offered no 
 remonstrance.
 
 XV 
 
 "THIS PRIDE OF HERS." 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona, III. i. 
 
 General Lloyd gave a luncheon at the 
 Arlington Golf Club, a few days after the 
 cotillon at the Polish embassy. He had 
 invited a large party to play foursomes be 
 fore luncheon, but as is usual on such occa 
 sions, some did not arrive on time, while 
 others did not feel like playing; so alto 
 gether, the arrangements were considerably 
 upset. However, four matches finally 
 started play over the Arlington downs, 
 while the remainder of the guests broke up 
 into parties of two, to wander about the 
 links or chat in cosy corners at the club 
 house. 
 
 Ritchie Maitland had been somewhat re 
 sponsible for the miscarriage of the arrange 
 ments. He and Phoebe Smith were to ride 
 out on wheels, but they had not appeared 
 an hour after the appointed time. 
 
 General Lloyd, owing to his military 
 207
 
 208 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 training, was a man of precise habits. He 
 found it difficult to pardon the tardiness of 
 others, consequently he was much annoyed. 
 He had arranged that Violet and he should 
 play Maitland and Phoebe Smith in fact, 
 the party had been given with this end in 
 view, so the failure of his little scheme put 
 him in an ill humor he made little attempt 
 to conceal. 
 
 Violet and he followed one of the matches 
 for a while. It was a clear March day, but 
 there was a cold wind blowing over the hills 
 which made walking uncomfortable. But 
 the view was superb. At their feet was the 
 brown Potomac, winding seaward, and be 
 yond were the white houses of Georgetown 
 and Washington sprinkled upon the hillside, 
 with the great dome of the Capitol glisten 
 ing against the blue sky, while scattered 
 over the green links were the various groups 
 of players their red coats glaring in the 
 sunlight, their golf 'skirts flapping as they 
 struggled against the wind. But even the 
 surroundings could not make conversation 
 for Violet and her companion. General 
 Lloyd had planned a little piece of strategy 
 which had miscarried, and for the moment
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 209 
 
 he was unable to conceal his disappoint 
 ment, while Violet was lost in thought over 
 the events of the past week. 
 
 Maitland had called, as he promised, the 
 day following the embassy cotillon, but the 
 interview had been short and unsatisfactory. 
 They had both talked about casual matters, 
 but it was easy for her to discover that her 
 premonitions had been well founded. 
 Ritchie, while scrupulously attentive in all 
 the little amenities, was acting on the de 
 fensive. He avoided skillfully all reference 
 to their former relations, and instead of 
 treating her as the woman he most admired, 
 or even as a friend, he had assumed an at 
 titude of casual, almost flippant intimacy. 
 Violet was a girl of spirit. Her pride was 
 deeply touched. She tried to convince her 
 self that Ritchie Maitland was nothing to 
 her. He had amused her during a rather 
 dull winter; he had tried to make use of 
 her, but she had outwitted him honors 
 were easy. But this explanation was not 
 satisfactory. He had been more to her 
 than any one else. She banished the 
 thought with an effort. Not for one mo 
 ment would she admit that she had been in
 
 210 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 love with Ritchie Maitland. Yet try as she 
 might she could not forget that afternoon 
 when he had told her of his love, and she 
 had almost believed him. She trembled 
 when she thought what might have been 
 the consequences had she been less sus 
 picious, less master of herself. 
 
 To be jilted by a man is the most ignoble 
 position in which a girl can be placed. She 
 confessed to herself that it was by the 
 merest chance she had escaped that catas 
 trophe. Ritchie Maitland had played with 
 her affections to gain his own ends. What 
 could be more despicable? 
 
 "You do n't seem very talkative to-day," 
 said General Lloyd, after they had trudged 
 together in silence for fully five minutes. 
 
 "Is it my fault or yours?" asked Violet. 
 "You have been too cross to speak to." 
 
 "Your evident lack of interest was 
 enough to make me cross," he answered 
 rather curtly. 
 
 "I was thinking." 
 
 "Some new political scheme, I sup 
 pose. Have you a friend for the Danish 
 mission? Browning's death makes a fine 
 opening."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 211 
 
 "You must n't judge every one by your 
 self; politics is not the aim of every one's 
 ambition." 
 
 "Tut, tut," said the General. "I won't 
 quarrel. Life is too short. " 
 
 "Who began it?" asked Violet. 
 
 "The weather. This wind is enough to 
 put any one in a bad humor. I move we 
 go back to the club and get thawed out." 
 
 "If you will promise to amuse me." 
 
 "I will propose to you. How will that 
 do?" 
 
 "That would be very stupid. A man is 
 so foolish when he is proposing." 
 
 "But I will invent a new way," expostu 
 lated the General. 
 
 "In that case I might listen, but nothing 
 more." 
 
 "Not even a word of encouragement? 
 We amateurs need to be encouraged." 
 
 "You always talk as though you consid 
 ered yourself a professional in the art of 
 winning hearts. I am surprised you ac 
 knowledge your tyroism." 
 
 "One is always a novice at that," an 
 swered the General. "Because women's 
 hearts are all different."
 
 212 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Sort of Yale locks, I suppose. No two 
 keys alike." 
 
 And so they talked along about nothing 
 in particular until they reached the club 
 house. A huge wood fire was burning in 
 the reading-room, and that, combined with 
 a warming drink, succeeded at last in dis 
 pelling the blues which had come over both 
 General Lloyd and Violet. But just as 
 they had begun to be comfortable, and the 
 General thought that the opportunity was 
 favorable for directing the conversation into 
 personal channels, word came to him that 
 two ladies had arrived and were asking for 
 him. They proved to be Mrs. Love and Mrs. 
 Elliott, who not being golfers had driven 
 out to join the party at luncheon. He 
 went to meet them, and Violet, left for the 
 moment alone, wandered into the women's 
 locker room, to leave a jacket in her locker. 
 A thin partition separated this apartment 
 from the adjoining room, a small den where 
 two or three people could talk undisturbed. 
 
 As Violet opened her locker door, she 
 heard voices distinctly through the par 
 tition. 
 
 "Why do you doubt me?"
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 213 
 
 She started. The speaker was Ritchie 
 Maitland. 
 
 "I don't doubt you, but I want to be 
 quite sure." His companion was Phoebe 
 Smith. Violet drew close to the wall. 
 The thought that it was dishonorable to 
 listen never came to her. She was think 
 ing only of Maitland's perfidy. 
 
 "I love you, Phoebe. I want you to be 
 my wife. How can you doubt me now?" 
 
 Violet's heart sickened. 
 
 "But it is all so sudden. How can I be 
 sure? I thought you cared for Violet Dun 
 can." 
 
 "How could you think that?" 
 
 "You were so attentive to her every one 
 thought you were going to marry her." 
 
 "Marry her, Phoebe, when I love you?" 
 
 "Don't, Ritchie, don't not now tell 
 me first if you are quite sure you do n't care 
 for her." 
 
 "I never cared for her, dearest; I never 
 cared for her. I was compelled to be at 
 tentive to her in a way. I needed her 
 father's help that was all." 
 
 Violet felt as if a sudden dagger-thrust 
 pierced her heart.
 
 214 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Then you really love me." 
 "Yes, yes, you, only you; believe me." 
 "Oh, Ritchie, I am so happy." 
 Violet could hear no more. She felt that 
 if she stayed she must shout a warning to 
 that poor little creature in the other room. 
 She felt she must denounce that treacherous 
 man to the whole world. She ran quickly 
 out of the house, and across the golf course. 
 She wanted to be alone where she could 
 think clearly and realise it all. 
 
 Anger, humiliation, the desire for re 
 venge these were the feelings which ani 
 mated her. Ritchie's words merely corrob 
 orated her own suspicions; but now that 
 she had heard him declare with his own lips 
 his love for another woman, and deny that 
 he had ever cared for her, all the resent 
 ment and passion of her nature were aroused. 
 She hated him with that bitter, rankling 
 hatred which is the result of wounded pride. 
 She longed for some revenge, some means 
 of making him realise his meanness. 
 
 When she was out of sight of the club 
 house, and away from every one, she began 
 to cry. The tears were a relief to her pent 
 up feelings. When she finally dried her
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 215 
 
 eyes, and began to think more calmly, she 
 felt hardened and embittered. Her pride 
 was humiliated; her faith in human nature 
 was shattered. She thought of the world 
 with a feeling of disgust; she had grown 
 older in an hour. 
 
 She did not care what happened to her. 
 Only give her the means to crush Ritchie 
 Maitland, that was all she asked. She did 
 not wish to injure him literally, but to make 
 him realise the sort of cur that he was, to 
 make him despise himself, and suffer the 
 remorse that his contemptible conduct 
 ought to inspire. If there were only some 
 way in which she could place him under a 
 great obligation, and at the same time show 
 him her absolute contempt ; some way in 
 which she could torture him into a realisa 
 tion of his own baseness, and make him 
 suffer shame. 
 
 She smiled at the thought. Such a man 
 was incapable of shame or remorse. But 
 there must be some way to place him in an 
 unenviable position, some way to punish him. 
 Suddenly an idea came to her. The Danish 
 mission. If she could secure that post for 
 him a position far beyond his fondest
 
 216 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 dreams if she could make him owe success 
 to her, and at the same time let him know 
 how thoroughly she despised him, that 
 might be a revenge so refined and subtle 
 that even Ritchie Maitland would experi 
 ence shame. 
 
 The idea was pleasing. General Lloyd 
 had suggested it. He would brave fire, 
 water, and the President's wrath for her. 
 His influence and her father's united would 
 be very powerful. She resolved to make 
 the attempt. Had she been calmer, she 
 might have realised that such a man as 
 Ritchie Maitland would merely laugh at the 
 agreeable torture she had planned, and ac 
 cept it as an unexpected windfall of luck. 
 But Violet was in the state of mind when 
 reason had fled, and pride had taken full 
 possession of her heart.
 
 XV 
 
 "ON THE DEBATING A MARRIAGE." 
 
 Henry VIII., II. 4. 
 
 During luncheon Violet was the life of 
 the party. She chaffed Ritchie openly 
 about his attentions to Phoebe Smith, until 
 the poor girl simpered and blushed to such 
 a degree that every one except Violet pitied 
 her ; she flirted with General Lloyd as well, 
 and lost no opportunity of impressing the 
 entire party with the idea that Ritchie 
 Maitland was nothing to her. This gaiety 
 was forced, however; she was thinking only 
 of revenge. 
 
 After luncheon she wandered over the 
 golf course with an insipid youth, who 
 made silly speeches and laughed loudly at 
 his own vaporings. Now that those she 
 wished most to deceive were no longer pres 
 ent, her forced gaiety relapsed, and her 
 thoughts wandered far from her companion. 
 Vapid youths demand appreciation, or at 
 least attention, so when, in due time, Gen- 
 si?
 
 2i8 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 eral Lloyd approached her, the boy fled, 
 with blushing apologies about an engage 
 ment which did not exist, and Violet was 
 given the desired opportunity of furthering 
 her plans. 
 
 "I was just thinking about you, General 
 Lloyd," she said, as the youth disap 
 peared. 
 
 "I am grateful for a place in your 
 thoughts, but I aspire to a place in your 
 heart," the General answered suavely. 
 
 "That is easy the rooms in my heart are 
 all to let, at present." 
 
 "Then, I speak for a little back room 
 somewhere, so modest that you will not 
 consider it worth while to turn me out." 
 
 "If you wish to become a permanent 
 boarder, you must do something for me 
 you must help me." 
 
 "And if I help you?" 
 
 "I shall be very grateful." 
 
 "The surest way to make an enemy is to 
 oblige a friend." 
 
 "In this particular case you will oblige 
 an enemy," said Violet laughing. 
 
 "What have I done to make you an 
 enemy?" he asked.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 219 
 
 "I am not speaking for myself. I wish 
 you to do something for someone else." 
 
 He looked at her intently. "It is as 
 good as done," he said slowly. "Mr. 
 Maitland will be appointed Minister to Den 
 mark. 
 
 Violet started back in surprise. "Are 
 you a wizard?" she exclaimed. 
 
 "No, merely a man of the world. It 
 amounts to the same thing when it comes 
 to reading a woman's thoughts. You may 
 remember, I hinted some ago that you 
 might wish to be revenged. There is noth 
 ing like putting an enemy under an obliga 
 tion." 
 
 Violet turned her eyes away. The pene 
 tration of the man frightened her. 
 
 "You misunderstand the matter com 
 pletely," she said suddenly. "I do not 
 wish an appointment for Mr. Maitland. You 
 must remember that I asked you to oppose 
 him on the last occasion." 
 
 General Lloyd laughed. "Your face is 
 too honest for an intriguer." 
 
 "I do not wish Mr. Maitland to be ap 
 pointed," she repeated firmly. 
 
 He leaned toward her and spoke very
 
 220 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 slowly. "I have the President's promise 
 that I may name the Danish minister. It 
 is a reward for my service in supporting 
 young Whiting, and thus settling the feud 
 in New York." 
 
 "It is very generous of the President." 
 
 "I am generous also. Would you like to 
 name the candidate? You may do so on 
 one condition." 
 
 "And that condition is?" she asked. 
 
 "That you become my wife," he an 
 swered with scarcely a change in his voice. 
 
 Violet looked at him in amazement. 
 
 "I am in earnest," he said. "I once 
 told you that I thought it wise for a woman 
 to get over being in love before she mar 
 ried. Marriage is a partnership for mutual 
 benefit; love is a disease." 
 
 She shuddered. The thought came to 
 her that perhaps his cold-blooded philosophy 
 was right ; at least he made no pretense of a 
 love he did not feel he was not a hypocrite. 
 
 "Why should you wish to marry me?" 
 she asked slowly. 
 
 "Because I admire you intensely. Be 
 cause I feel that as my wife you will be 
 able to assist me in my ambition."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 221 
 
 She covered her face with her hands. 
 
 "No! No!" she cried. "I could not 
 marry a man I did not love." 
 
 "I intend to marry you," he said. "I 
 am not a man who usually fails of his pur 
 pose." 
 
 "Have you no heart?" she asked. "Can 
 you be serious in this cold-blooded propo 
 sition?" 
 
 "My dear Miss Duncan, I repeat again 
 that I consider marriage a partnership. 
 Take plenty of time ; think over my propo 
 sition thoroughly; consult your father if 
 you like, and remember that as my wife 
 you will receive my respect and admiration ; 
 you will, I think, become a power socially 
 and politically." 
 
 "You are at least frank," she said. 
 
 "I am fifty-four years old, but I am not 
 foolish enough to imagine that I could win 
 your love. Your hand is all I aspire to. 
 Here comes Komlossy to talk to you. 
 Think over all I have said. There is no 
 particular hurry. The nomination for Min 
 ister to Denmark will not be made until you 
 speak the word." 
 
 General Lloyd bowed politely and re-
 
 222 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 tired. Violet looked after him intently. 
 Komlossy watched her. Is this the end of 
 everything, she wondered the end of love? 
 
 "If I were you I should marry him," said 
 Komlossy. " He is an excellent parti ; mil 
 lions, position, influence. What more do 
 you want?" 
 
 "I want to love the man I marry," she 
 said. Komlossy had asked the question 
 she was putting to herself, and she had an 
 swered it unmindful of his presence. 
 
 "Love is a disease," grunted the Hun 
 garian. 
 
 She turned suddenly, and looked at him 
 reproachfully. 
 
 "Why are you men of the world all 
 alike?" she exclaimed. "Why do you all 
 take the same bitter view of life? Why do 
 you all deny the existence of the one thing 
 for which a woman lives?" 
 
 "Because we know the world." 
 
 "And do you honestly believe there is 
 no such thing as love?" 
 
 "Love is the ignis- fatuus the fire of 
 fools which hovers over the wilderness of 
 life. We see it, we pursue it but there it 
 is, always before us, always in the future."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 223 
 
 "But surely some attain it," she cried. 
 
 "Some seize it breathlessly, only to learn 
 that it was merely the fire called passion ; 
 others, and they are the wise, extinguish 
 it, and leave it to smoulder on the hearth, 
 as the comfortable ember of domesticity; 
 but love is always the unattainable the 
 will-o'-the-wisp." 
 
 "I wonder if you are right," she sighed, 
 gazing over the downs, toward Washington, 
 where the rays of the setting sun burnished 
 the dome of the Capitol. She had known 
 two men who had influenced her. Jack 
 Hardy, the valiant unpolished soldier, was 
 one. He would die for love as he would 
 for country. She had failed to love him 
 because he lacked in fascination. Ritchie 
 Maitland was the other; he succeeded 
 where his rival failed; he knew the signs 
 and 'passwords of a woman's heart. He 
 was an arch player in the game of love. 
 But now that she knew his duplicity, no 
 words could express her contempt ; he was 
 a miserable reptile whom she longed to 
 crush the man of all men whom she 
 hated. 
 
 And now another had come into her life,
 
 224 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 offering wealth, position, power all that 
 the heart desires, except the one craving 
 love. Why seek for more? Why weary 
 herself longer with fruitless chasing after 
 that will-o'-the-wisp? That was the ques 
 tion she asked herself. The temptation was 
 strong. She shuddered at the thought that 
 she might not prove strong enough to resist. 
 Other women had sold themselves to am 
 bition, and they were happy at least as 
 happy as many of those who were merely 
 the slaves of love. 
 
 "Eh bien!" said Komlossy. "You do 
 not answer. You admit that love is unat 
 tainable. " 
 
 "I admit that I have not attained it," 
 she said thoughtfully. 
 
 That night, when she was leaving the 
 house to dine with Mrs. Elliott, she went 
 to the library, where, as usual, her father 
 was working. Laying her hand on his 
 shoulder, she said quietly: 
 
 "General Lloyd has asked me to marry 
 him. What do you wish me to do?" 
 
 The Secretary looked up in astonishment. 
 "General Lloyd wants to marry you!" he 
 exclaimed.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 225 
 
 "Yes, he asked me this afternoon," she 
 said coldly. "It would be a brilliant 
 match, would it not?" 
 
 He took her hand and held it. Looking 
 into her eyes, he said tenderly: "You do 
 not love him, do you, Violet?" 
 
 "As much as I shall love any man." 
 
 "Are you quite sure?" 
 
 ' ' As sure as I am of anything. ' ' 
 
 There was a bitter tone to her voice. 
 Her father drew her toward him, until she 
 sat on the arm of his chair. 
 
 "Be careful, Violet," he said. "Do not 
 make a mistake you can never rectify." 
 
 She turned and looked at him. "Would 
 it not please you if I were to marry General 
 Lloyd?" she asked. 
 
 For a moment the Secretary did not re 
 ply; he gazed thoughtfully at the pile of 
 papers on his desk. 
 
 "You know, Violet," he said finally, 
 "that I am a poor man. I have nothing at 
 present but my salary and a few odds and 
 ends of property of not much value. I 
 have devoted too much of my life to poli 
 tics to grow rich. I had more a few 
 years ago when you and your mother
 
 226 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 went to Europe, but the panic took most 
 of it." 
 
 "And General Lloyd is rich and influ 
 ential," said Violet. "Together you would 
 be a power in politics." 
 
 "Whatever happens, do not let such an 
 argument influence you," he exclaimed. 
 
 Without replying she kissed him and left 
 the room hurriedly. "If I cannot bring 
 happiness to myself," she thought, "I can 
 at least bring relief to him."
 
 XVI 
 
 "AND SWEET REVENGE GROWS HARSH." 
 Othello, V. 2. 
 
 Mrs. Elliott's dinner was a rollicking 
 affair, where formality was scattered to the 
 four winds. Violet was in a reckless mood. 
 Neither General Lloyd nor Ritchie Maitland 
 was there, and for the moment she forgot 
 that she was at the cross-roads where she 
 must choose the way of the future. She 
 plunged headlong into the merriment, and 
 people paused to wonder and admire. Her 
 cheeks glowed, her eyes were full of anima 
 tion ; she had never been more entertaining, 
 nor so beautiful. It was an hour of mental 
 abandon in which she tried to forget self. 
 
 When dinner was over, the party went 
 to Mrs. Herkomer's musicale. They found 
 the room already filled to overflowing. The 
 leading artists of the opera had been 
 brought over from New York to render a 
 jumble of Wagner and "Home, Sweet 
 Home," at so much per song, and the au- 
 227
 
 228 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 dience, that is to say, the feminine portion, 
 was for the moment casting admiring 
 glances at Ivan Gereczow, a Slavonian 
 Adonis with a tenor voice, and feigning an 
 appreciation for the tumultuous chords of 
 the "Gotterdammerung." 
 
 Mrs. Herkomer was a purveyor to society, 
 tolerated for the cheer she provided. She 
 was a long way from a seat on Olympus, 
 but the gods deigned to honor her, occa 
 sionally, for the sake of her chef. She was, 
 in a way, the rival of Mrs. Silas Smith, but 
 the latter had a reason for being; her hus 
 band was a senator, whereas Mr. Herkomer 
 was merely the proprietor of the St. Louis 
 Street Railway system. At home he was a 
 magnate, but in Washington he was only 
 Mrs. Herkomer's husband an absentee 
 landlord, forced to reside at the national 
 capital by the social ambitions of his wife. 
 
 The price-mark was invariably attached 
 to Mrs. Herkomer's entertainments, but on 
 the present occasion the zeros to the left of 
 the decimal point had been visibly in 
 creased. Madame Scala was to receive 
 $2,000 for a song, and Gereczow was to be 
 paid extra for each encore. Madame Malve
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 229 
 
 refused to sing because Scala, her great 
 rival, had been previously engaged ; but 
 that was the only blot upon the occasion; 
 all the lesser satellites were there in the 
 form of contraltos, bassos, and baritones 
 and the total cost would have endowed a 
 university professorship, had the funds been 
 turned to such a prosaic use. 
 
 No wonder the ball-room was crowded, 
 and that most of the people were bored. 
 No one had the temerity to talk during such 
 expensive music. From the view-point of 
 entertainment, one of those drawing-room 
 falsettos with an English accent, who sings 
 whenever the conversation lags, at fifty dol 
 lars per night, was worth twenty Gerec- 
 zows ; at least that was the Philistine opin 
 ion of Dick Willing. 
 
 Violet glanced into the crowded ball 
 room. She was not in the mood for classi 
 cal music the spirit of rashness was still 
 upon her; the reckless fire was in her dark 
 eyes ; her cheeks were flushed with excite 
 ment. She was defiant, and at war with 
 the world ; she cared not what happened. 
 As she turned away from the ball-room, 
 Maitland came toward her.
 
 230 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Can 't I find you a seat?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, if it is away from the music," she 
 said. 
 
 "I know a nook under the stairs, where 
 we can talk undisturbed," he answered. 
 
 She had not spoken to him alone since 
 she had overheard his conversation with 
 Phoebe Smith. She was glad to talk to 
 him. She felt that she could meet him on 
 equal terms; could give as well as take. 
 
 "You do n't like music, do you?" he said 
 as he took the seat beside her in the nook 
 under the stairs. 
 
 "I like Sousa's Band or a hand-organ." 
 
 "Another taste we have in common. 
 Music hath charms to soothe a savage, but 
 it takes a pretty girl to soothe me. I am 
 ready to be soothed," he added in a flip 
 pant tone. 
 
 Violet looked at him resentfully. His 
 manner angered her. 
 
 "Why should you need soothing?" she 
 asked. "I thought conceited people were 
 always serene. ' ' 
 
 "That is unkind. I thought you were 
 my friend," he replied. 
 
 "Yes, Ritchie, I am your friend the
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 231 
 
 one who understands you better than you 
 do yourself." 
 
 "The woman does not live who under 
 stands me," he said with a laugh. 
 
 His way of saying that was boastful, 
 even caddish; it made her thoroughly 
 angry. She longed to humiliate him. 
 
 "Do you really imagine that your char 
 acter is profound?" she asked. 
 
 "Do you really imagine that you under 
 stand me?" he replied. 
 
 "Ritchie Maitland," she answered sharp 
 ly? "you make the mistake of supposing 
 that your cleverness is commensurate with 
 your vanity. 
 
 "I made the mistake of supposing that 
 you were my friend." 
 
 "It is a friend's privilege to speak the 
 truth." 
 
 "But not to insult," he said resentfully. 
 
 "Let me tell you the truth, then. It 
 will do you good. You may decide after 
 ward whether it is insulting. ' ' 
 
 "The truth about what?" 
 
 "About a young office-seeker who came 
 to Washington to get an appointment. The 
 story is interesting, and it has a moral. ' '
 
 232 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "1 have outgrown fairy tales and stories 
 with morals," he said suspiciously. 
 
 "But I insist." 
 
 "Then gallantry compels me to listen; 
 but I hate being lectured by innuendo. 
 
 "This is not a lecture or a fairy tale," 
 she replied scornfully, "but merely a little 
 romance with a dash of realism. You see, 
 the hero of my tale was an office-seeker who 
 was worldly-wise, so he did not come to 
 Washington with a brass band and a dele 
 gation; on the contrary, he came deftly and 
 discreetly, without blare of trumpets; he 
 said little and did little until he had crept 
 near the seats of the mighty, and learned 
 that one in authority, who, as politicians 
 say, "possessed the ear of the President," 
 had a daughter who was influential, and, as 
 he supposed, impressionable." 
 
 "What is the use of all this," Ritchie 
 asked. "Is it not better left unsaid?" 
 
 "A story is often misjudged unless it is 
 followed to the end." 
 
 Maitland shrugged his shoulders in ac 
 quiescence. 
 
 "My hero," continued Violet, "con 
 ceived the brilliant idea of reaching the man
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 233 
 
 of influence through the daughter. A 
 heroic game, and exciting, too, for he came 
 so near compromising himself that he was 
 compelled to beat a hasty retreat; that is, 
 after he discovered that his efforts were in 
 vain, and the office he sought was given to 
 a rival." 
 
 "Really, Violet, I protest," Maitland 
 exclaimed. "You misjudge me." 
 
 "Wait until I have finished." 
 
 "Very well, if you insist." 
 
 "That is the story from the hero's point 
 of view," she continued excitedly, "except 
 that having been foiled in his search for 
 office, he conceived the manly plan of mak 
 ing love to the only daughter of a million 
 aire, as a last resort." ... 
 
 "I refuse to listen to this stuff," pro 
 tested Maitland. 
 
 "Oh, indeed!" she laughed. "Why 
 I have just come to the heroine. You 
 could not refuse to listen to the woes 
 and trials of an unfortunate maiden, could 
 you?" 
 
 "Well, go on with your fairy tale," he 
 said, plunging his hands into his pockets 
 resignedly.
 
 234 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "The fairy of my tale was young and 
 guileless at least, the hero so supposed. 
 But appearances are sometimes deceiving. 
 So it happened that the fairy lived much 
 in the world, and knew the ways of men. 
 When the young office-seeker appeared, she 
 was looking for diversion. His schemes 
 were very transparent, but, nevertheless, 
 the sport was amusing. His attentions were 
 quite assiduous that is, to a certain point ; 
 but with wily precaution, he invariably 
 tempered his love-making with enigmas and 
 innuendos which he fancied were profound 
 and guarded. Now, it happened that the 
 heroine was amusing herself at the expense 
 of the young man, so his schemes did not 
 materialize exactly as he had expected. 
 You see, she had a very dear friend, and 
 together they played a diverting game in 
 the world of politics. The clever young 
 man was used advantageously in a bold 
 political stroke. He failed to get his ap 
 pointment, but a party feud was settled in 
 the principal State of the Union." 
 
 "Do you mean ?" cried Maitland. 
 
 "That General Lloyd and I arranged to 
 defeat your appointment, in order to prove
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 235 
 
 how utterly you were lacking in sincerity 
 certainly." 
 
 Maitland was silent. Anger was in his 
 eyes ; his hands twitched nervously. 
 
 "How do you like my story?" she asked. 
 "Is it getting interesting?" 
 
 "You should become a novelist," he said 
 with a sneer. "The plot is a trifle ama 
 teurish, however; it needs working up." 
 
 "Do not criticise before the story is fin 
 ished," she answered coldly. 
 
 "Oh, there is more, is there?" 
 
 "Yes, there is more," she answered. 
 
 Ritchie Maitland was still contemptuous. 
 There was but one means left to humiliate 
 him. It was a desperate course, but in that 
 moment of anger she resolved to take it. 
 He must be humbled ; he must be made to 
 confess his inferiority, no matter what the 
 cost might be. She was ready for any rash 
 deed, if it would lift the weight from her 
 heart. She was reckless and defiant. War 
 was declared, and she must secure a vic 
 tory. Codte que codte. 
 
 "Well," he said, examining his finger 
 nails in a casual manner, "I am waiting for 
 the denouement."
 
 236 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 ''In the denouement, the heroine be 
 comes the good fairy," said Violet. "She 
 and her friend take pity on the young 
 office-seeker. They realise his shortcom 
 ings, and his lack of knowledge of the world, 
 and decide that he ought to go abroad, 
 where he may learn something of the world, 
 and of women in particular. You see, the 
 heroine and her friend are people of influ 
 ence, so it is easy for them to obtain for the 
 young man a post far more elevated than 
 the humble office to which he aspired." 
 
 "What do you mean?" Ritchie ex 
 claimed. 
 
 "I mean," Violet said calmly, "that 
 your name is about to go to the Senate as 
 Minister to Denmark, and that I am going 
 to marry General Lloyd. How do you like 
 the denouement?" 
 
 For a moment he sat there gazing at the 
 floor; then he turned and looked at her. 
 He met a contemptuous glance that made 
 him turn his eyes away and wince. He 
 was no longer defiant ; his manner was 
 sneaking, like that of a whipped puppy. 
 That was her revenge. 
 
 "Really I am very grateful," he mut-
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 237 
 
 tered finally. "You have been a true 
 friend. I I congratulate you. " 
 
 She turned and looked at him. How 
 could he accept office from her when it was 
 thrown to him like a sop to a dog. "If he 
 had a spark of manhood in him," she 
 thought, "he would resent such a gift from 
 a woman who had told him in so many 
 words that he was a cad a woman who 
 despised him." 
 
 "Ritchie Maitland," she said, rising from 
 her seat, "I have but one favor to ask: Go 
 to poor little Phoebe Smith and undeceive 
 her be generous for once in your life." 
 
 She walked away. His momentary im 
 pulse was to follow her and acknowledge 
 that all she said was true; to ask forgive 
 ness, and tell her that he loved her loved 
 for the first time in his life with a manly, 
 generous love. For a moment he hesi 
 tated ; then the old cynical smile crossed 
 his lips. "It 's an ill wind that blows no 
 body good," he said with a shrug of the 
 shoulders. "Things seem to be coming my 
 way why not let them come?" 
 
 In a moment of anger, Violet had taken 
 a step from which there was no turning
 
 238 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 back. She had seen Ritchie Mainland 
 cringe before her; she had seen him con 
 fused and beaten, but at what price? She 
 dared not think of the consequences. She 
 had redeemed herself before the world ; no 
 one could say she had been jilted. The 
 future? What did the future matter? Her 
 pride was avenged. 
 
 She walked alone into the ball-room. 
 Scala had just finished a song; the applause 
 was dying away. 
 
 "Won't you have this seat, Miss Dun 
 can?" said a voice beside her. She turned 
 suddenly. For a moment her pulses 
 throbbed violently. 
 
 "General Lloyd," she said, finally, with 
 an effort, "I was looking for you. Do you 
 mind stepping into the hall? I have some 
 thing very important to say to you." 
 
 He followed her. When they were alone 
 she stopped. Turning, she looked him 
 firmly in the eyes and said: "I have just 
 told Mr. Maitland that he is to be appointed 
 Minister to Denmark." 
 
 "Then you will marry me?" he answered 
 quietly. 
 
 "If you wish it."
 
 "*THKN voi; \\ii.i. MAKKV MI;.' "
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 239 
 
 "That is the only answer I ask," he re 
 plied, taking her hand and kissing it. 
 
 The room grew black before her eyes. 
 
 "Get me a glass of water, won't you?" 
 she asked. "Quick! I feel faint it is so 
 hot here." 
 
 General Lloyd bowed with his usual 
 suavity, but there was a cold, hard look in 
 his eyes which Violet did not notice.
 
 XVII 
 
 "HOW LOVE CAN TRIFLE WITH ITSELF." 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona, IV. 4. 
 
 "Well, what do you think of them?" 
 said Komlossy, dropping into a seat beside 
 Mrs. Cortland, during an afternoon tea at 
 the Japanese legation. 
 
 "Think of whom?" asked Mrs. Cortland. 
 "The new Brazilian minister and his wife?" 
 
 "No, the new engagements." 
 
 "Are they announced?" 
 
 "Yes, both of them this morning." 
 
 "I knew about them a week ago, so they 
 do not interest me." 
 
 "Not interest you!" exclaimed the Hun 
 garian, in astonishment. "Do you mean 
 to say that you have no interest in this 
 great social tragedy which is being enacted 
 under your very nose?" 
 
 "Tragedy!" said Mrs. Cortland. "I 
 should call it a farce." 
 
 "It is always a tragedy when a young 
 girl marries an old man." 
 240
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 241 
 
 "And when a poor man marries a rich 
 girl, I suppose." 
 
 "No, that part of it is quite right. I 
 recommended that match myself. Indeed 
 I may safely say I was the first to suggest 
 the idea to Maitland and la mtre Smith." 
 
 "Oh, indeed! So you have become a 
 matrimonial agent, have you? I think you 
 might find better mischief for your idle 
 hands to do." 
 
 "Then you do n't approve ?" 
 
 "Of Phoebe Smith throwing herself away 
 on Ritchie Maitland? Certainly not." 
 
 ' 'I think the throwing is the other way. 
 What is Phoebe Smith a little parvenue." 
 
 "With a million or two." 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 "And what is Ritchie Maitland?" asked 
 Mrs. Cortland. 
 
 "Minister to Denmark. Nominated by 
 General Lloyd, at the instigation of Violet 
 Duncan," said Komlossy, sarcastically, 
 "because she is in love with him that is 
 where the tragedy comes in." 
 
 "Violet is going to marry General Lloyd; 
 the presumption is that she is in love with 
 him," answered Mrs. Cortland dryly.
 
 242 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 The minister shrugged his shoulders. 
 "The presumption invariably is that a 
 woman loves the man she is going to 
 marry, but there is such a thing as presum 
 ing too much." 
 
 "If I had to choose," said Mrs. Cort- 
 land, "I would prefer marrying General 
 Lloyd to Ritchie Maitland." 
 
 "Because he is richer?" 
 
 "No, because, in the natural course of 
 events, he should die sooner." 
 
 "In either case, you do not approve of 
 Violet Duncan's taste." 
 
 "I am very much disappointed in Vio 
 let." 
 
 "I suppose you think she ought to have 
 married Jack Hardy." 
 
 "A woman ought to marry the man she 
 loves ; if she gets over loving him after mar 
 riage, that is another matter." 
 
 "And you think Violet loves Jack 
 Hardy?" 
 
 "I think she does not love General 
 Lloyd, that is all. But what is the use of 
 discussing the matter?" 
 
 "Because there is nothing else to dis 
 cuss," said Komlossy.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 243 
 
 "There is the new Brazilian minister 
 and his wife," answered Mrs. Cortland 
 dryly. 
 
 Violet entered the room. There was a 
 flutter of excitement, for her engagement 
 was the nine-days wonder. People pressed 
 forward to greet her, and she received their 
 congratulations with an attempt to feign a 
 happiness she did not feel. In a moment 
 of pique she had promised to marry a man 
 she did not love; a cold, calculating in 
 triguer, the very touch of whose hand made 
 her shiver. She had sacrificed herself to 
 pride, but with what result? For one mo 
 ment she had seen Ritchie Maitland con 
 fused and beaten. It had been a moment 
 of exultation. But he had come forth the 
 same disdainful Ritchie Maitland she had 
 tried so hard to humble. He had accepted 
 the Danish mission as his due, and now his 
 engagement to Phoebe Smith was an 
 nounced. He was to all appearances su 
 premely contented with himself. This was 
 the man for whom she had sold herself ; a 
 man whom she despised ; a man whom she 
 had never loved. She emphasized the 
 word "never" to assure herself of its
 
 244 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 truth. People thought she was marrying 
 for money. She wished she had even 
 that excuse. She was marrying for the 
 sake of wounded pride marrying because 
 her life so far had been a failure, and 
 the future held forth no inducements. Her 
 lips drooped ; there was a look of dis 
 appointment and age in her eyes. She 
 hated the world and everybody in it ex 
 cept Jack Hardy. She had known one 
 loyal man, and she was thankful for it 
 now, when it was too late. She dared not 
 think of Jack. When he learned the truth, 
 he, too, would despise her. She tossed her 
 head back with a smile. What did it mat 
 ter? She was to be rich and powerful; the 
 world would fawn upon her for the sake of 
 the influence she would wield. What did 
 it matter if the world despised her for 
 she despised herself. 
 
 "Ah, Mademoiselle," said Komlossy, as 
 he approached her, "you look too thought 
 ful for a bride-elect." 
 
 "Is not the contemplation of marriage 
 sufficiently serious to make one thought 
 ful?" she asked. 
 
 "Now that it is all settled, and you have
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 245 
 
 made your choice, you ought to think of 
 nothing more serious than your trousseau." 
 
 "Could anything be more serious than 
 one's trousseau?" said Violet with a 
 laugh. 
 
 "I see," answered Komlossy, "that you 
 are fully alive to your new responsibilities. 
 Now, permit me to extend my congratula 
 tions." 
 
 "I do n't want to be congratulated. I 
 have heard nothing else all day. People 
 come and tell me all sorts of things they 
 do n't mean, and I have to smile and try to 
 look pleased. It is a great bore, Kom 
 lossy. 
 
 "Very well, then, I think you are making 
 a terrible mistake. You are giving up your 
 girlhood, your liberty, your supremacy all 
 to enter that unknown land of matrimony, 
 so alluring to strangers, so irksome to its in 
 habitants. In other words, you are a fool 
 to get married. Do you like that better?" 
 
 "A great deal," said Violet. "Because 
 I fancy it is nearer what you believe. ' ' 
 
 "I believe," answered the little Hunga 
 rian, "that for an attractive woman marriage 
 is unavoidable. The only way to face the
 
 246 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 problem is philosophically make a wise 
 marriage as you are doing." 
 
 Violet thought Komlossy was becoming 
 too frank. She was on the point of reply 
 ing angrily, but checked herself. 
 
 "When do you intend to marry Mrs. 
 Cortland?" she said suddenly. 
 
 "Whenever she will marry me." 
 
 "To-morrow, then," laughed Violet. 
 
 Komlossy frowned. "A year ago," he 
 said, "Brankovan confided to me that he 
 was madly in love with Mrs. Cortland. I 
 thought it would be a good idea to cut him 
 out. So I became desperately attentive 
 myself. One day I arranged a rendezvous 
 at a secluded spot near the Soldier's Home. 
 We were to meet at an early hour and walk 
 among the shaded groves while all Wash 
 ington was sleeping in ignorance of our 
 trysting place. I rode out at the appointed 
 time, laughing meanwhile at the gullible 
 Brankovan. Hitching my horse at a con 
 venient distance, I stepped boldly across 
 the sward, thinking of the joy that awaited 
 me, when lo and behold, there was Brank 
 ovan pacing nervously to and fro, like a 
 caged panther, but there was no lady. She
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 247 
 
 had made the same appointment with both 
 of us, and left us to meet each other. I 
 assure you a duel was but narrowly averted. 
 Since then I have never made love to Mrs. 
 Cortland." 
 
 "But I am sure you are in love with 
 her," said Violet. "A man invariably 
 loves the woman who makes a fool of him." 
 
 "But a woman never loves the man she 
 has made a fool of, so there you are. 
 l ll-y-a toujours Vun qui aime et Vautre qui 
 se laisse aimer. ' Take my advice : always 
 let some one else do the loving it is much 
 less troublesome." 
 
 Komlossy walked away as he said that, 
 and a retired admiral came to talk to Vio 
 let. She found it an effort to listen to the 
 complimentary phrases of the old sea-dog, 
 because she was thinking hard about what 
 Komlossy had been saying, and wondering 
 whether she had solved the marriage prob 
 lem philosophically. There is a vast differ 
 ence, however, between philosophy and 
 felicity. 
 
 A little later Mrs. Cortland came toward 
 Violet. 
 
 "Violet." she said, "I don't believe in
 
 248 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 perfunctory congratulations they mean so 
 little. I hope you are happy. No one 
 deserves happiness more than you do, 
 dear. 
 
 Violet looked at Mrs. Cortland curiously. 
 "Do you think any one is ever happy for 
 more than a very short time?" she asked. 
 
 "You are too young," said Mrs. Cort 
 land, "to look at life in that way. I do n't 
 believe in cynics. A cynic is only the dupe 
 of his own follies. There is such a thing 
 as happiness, but it is not self-gratification 
 or self-sufficiency ; it is, I should say, 
 merely the habit of good intentions." 
 
 "Oh, be good and you '11 be happy," 
 Violet laughed. ' 'That is very trite, Mrs. 
 Cortland." 
 
 "Be true to yourself," said Mrs. Cort 
 land. "That is all a woman has to do in 
 this world." 
 
 "I thought she had to be true to her hus 
 band." Violet said this flippantly. She 
 did not want to talk seriously with Mrs. 
 Cortland. She was very fond of her, and 
 it made her uncomfortable to feel that she 
 disapproved of her approaching marriage. 
 It had seemed so easy to brave criticism, to
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 249 
 
 stifle the promptings of her heart, but now 
 she was frightened by her own weakness. 
 She turned to Mrs. Cortland and said sud 
 denly : 
 
 "I hate to have you disapprove of me. 
 I do n't mind what others think; but you 
 oh, if you only understood, you would 
 think differently about me." 
 
 Then she walked away abruptly. 
 
 "Poor child," said Mrs. Cortland, look 
 ing after her, "she has too much heart for 
 the part she is playing. 
 
 Violet drove home from the Japanese 
 legation with General Lloyd. It was nearly 
 dark, and the street lamps were already 
 lighted. Once she had enjoyed talking to 
 him; his knowledge of men and of the 
 world had interested her; but now she drew 
 back instinctively into her corner of the 
 brougham and feigned fatigue. She was 
 afraid to be alone with this man with whom 
 she was to spend her life; this old grey- 
 haired man. She looked up suddenly, as 
 though awaking from a dream. The light 
 of a street lamp flickered for a moment on 
 his face. How cold and deliberate his feat 
 ures were.
 
 250 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Why did you look at me like that?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Did I look at you? Pardon me, I was 
 only thinking." 
 
 "You were thinking about me," he said. 
 
 "I was thinking about the future." 
 
 "And regretting the past," he added 
 frigidly. 
 
 "I have nothing to regret," she said 
 firmly. 
 
 "And everything to live for," he replied 
 with a short laugh. "There is but one 
 thing in this world worth living for: it is 
 power. Together we shall have power, 
 Violet; we shall sway the destinies of men. " 
 
 "Yes," she said, "we shall sway the 
 destinies of men. We shall be happy." 
 
 He turned and looked at her. "Are you 
 sorry you are going to marry me?" he asked. 
 
 "I am sorry I do not love you," she said 
 suddenly. "That is all." 
 
 "You are frank," he answered. 
 
 "Have I ever pretended anything else? 
 I hope I am not a hypocrite." 
 
 "No, it was a fair bargain," he sighed. 
 "I made the terms." 
 
 They drove on in silence. Finally the
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 251 
 
 carriage stopped. General Lloyd entered 
 the house with Violet. 
 
 "I shall see you to-night," she said, as 
 he turned to go. "It was very kind of 
 Mrs. Herkomer to give us a dinner. I 
 scarcely know her." 
 
 He took her hand. 
 
 "Why are you so deliberate in everything 
 you say to me?" he asked. 
 
 "Because everything I say to you is 
 purely a matter of deliberation." 
 
 He seized both her hands and looked into 
 her face angrily. "You forget you are go 
 ing to be my wife," he cried. 
 
 She returned his glance calmly. "You 
 forget," she said, "that you wished to 
 marry a woman whose heart had been 
 broken. Your wish will be realised, I think." 
 
 "Violet," he said more tenderly, "try 
 and make the best of a bad bargain. Try 
 and love me just a little." 
 
 "I thought you did not believe in love," 
 she answered coldly. 
 
 He drew her toward him, and held her 
 tightly in his arms. 
 
 "You are making me believe in love," he 
 said. "You are so cruel." He kissed her.
 
 252 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 Violet shuddered. It was the first time he 
 had kissed her. 
 
 "Don't," she said feebly. 
 
 He took her face between his hands, and 
 holding her away from him, glared at her 
 fiercely. "I will make you love me," he 
 cried. Then he released her suddenly, and 
 pushing her from him he left the room with 
 out a word or a gesture of farewell. 
 
 Violet stood looking at the open door. 
 
 "Oh, I can 't bear it I can 't bear it!" 
 she sighed. 
 
 Her face hardened. She pressed her lips 
 together firmly. "We will sway the des 
 tinies of men," she said, laughing hoarsely. 
 Then, with a shrug of the shoulders, she 
 turned suddenly and walked toward the 
 writing-table. Seating herself, she took 
 pen and paper, and wrote hurriedly this 
 note: 
 
 "DEAR JACK: I have something to tell 
 you. Something that will make you feel 
 very badly. I am going to be married, 
 Jack. I am going to marry General Lloyd. 
 There is so much I should like to say to 
 you so much that is in my heart to say 
 but what would be the use? Forget me,
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 253 
 
 Jack I was never worthy of your friend 
 ship. Think of me as I really am a vain, 
 selfish thing. I told you that once before. 
 Do you remember the time? I shall never 
 forget it, for all the good that has ever 
 come into my life has come from knowing 
 you. Jack, I can 't say more. I realise 
 now how thoroughly brave and good you 
 are, but sometimes realisation comes too 
 late. Good-bye, 
 
 " VIOLET." 
 
 When she had finished writing she took 
 the note and read it slowly. Then, folding 
 it carefully, she placed it in an envelope, 
 and taking up the pen again she wrote the 
 address : 
 
 "JOHN W. HARDY, ESQ., 
 
 "Lieutenant I2th Cavalry, 
 
 "Fort Riley, Kans." 
 
 Turning the envelope slowly in her hands, 
 she gazed long into the dying embers of the 
 fire. Then, tossing back her head sud 
 denly, she seized the letter and tore it into 
 little fragments. 
 
 "Let him think of me as the world thinks 
 of me," she cried aloud, burying her face in 
 her hands.
 
 XVIII 
 
 "SO IS THE BARGAIN." 
 As You Like It. V. 4. 
 
 They were taking supper after the play 
 in the restaurant of a New York hotel, Vio 
 let, Mrs. Cortland, General Lloyd, and 
 Komlossy. Violet had run over from 
 Washington with Mrs. Cortland to inter 
 view dressmakers and milliners, while Kom 
 lossy had the peculiar habit of appearing 
 when least expected that is to say, when 
 Mrs. Cortland least expected him. 
 
 People wondered why Violet should begin 
 the selection of her trousseau months before 
 her marriage but those who wondered, 
 overlooked the wedding of Ritchie Maitland 
 and Phoebe Smith. 
 
 All Washington had been convulsed with 
 anticipatory excitement regarding this 
 event. The wildest rumors were afloat as 
 to the extravagance of the preparations, 
 while the marriage of the daughter of the 
 richest man in the Senate with the newly- 
 254
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 255 
 
 appointed Minister to Denmark afforded the 
 representatives of the new journalism a rare 
 opportunity for the exploitation of the lin- 
 gere's art. 
 
 It was the day of Ritchie Maitland's wed 
 ding ; but the little group at the supper table 
 were seemingly unmindful of the episode 
 which engrossed society at the National 
 Capital. They had already been put in 
 good humor by a rollicking farce, and now 
 the lights and the laughter, the music and 
 the crowd, were stimulus sufficient to make 
 even Violet forget for the moment Ritchie 
 Maitland. She had grown to look upon 
 him as a sneak and time-server. He was 
 loathsome to her, and when she thought 
 that he had influenced her life, she hated 
 herself and him. She could not meet him 
 without a feeling of repugnance a desire 
 to tell him how thoroughly she despised 
 him. That was why she had avoided his 
 wedding. She could not bear to think that 
 she had been the victim sacrificed at the 
 altar of his triumph. But now, amid the 
 laughter and the music, she forgot for the 
 moment her unhappiness. 
 
 "I love to see people I love to see
 
 256 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 a crowd," she said, glancing about the 
 room. 
 
 All sorts and conditions were there; 
 dandies of the metropolis, conscious of their 
 supremacy; would-be swells, over-dressed 
 and blatant; Westerners with "money to 
 burn;" Hebraic financiers, statesmen, a 
 bridal couple from the country staring in 
 wonderment. Some the waiters served 
 obsequiously, others they treated with in 
 difference or scorn. There was variety 
 among the women, too, for the half-world 
 has a certain fascination for women of char 
 acter when contact with it is confined to the 
 interchange of glances. 
 
 In answer to Violet's remark, Komlossy 
 glanced about him scornfully. "Cheap," 
 he said, "cheap. The moment a place in 
 New York becomes fashionable, it is spoiled 
 by the rabble." 
 
 "To me the rabble is the most attractive 
 part," said Mrs. Cortland. "How tire 
 some it would be if there were only the 
 swells." 
 
 "And how tired the swells would be," 
 replied General Lloyd, "if there were no 
 rabble to eftvy them."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 257 
 
 "Bah," said Komlossy. "That is the 
 trouble with Americans. Everything is so 
 new to them that even being a swell is like 
 having a new toy the fact must be paraded 
 around for all the other children to envy." 
 
 "The trouble with you, Komlossy," re 
 torted Mrs. Cortland, "is that you are too 
 old to sympathize with us children." 
 
 The little diplomat frowned his age was 
 a sensitive point. 
 
 "You see we are all against you, Kom 
 lossy," said Violet. 
 
 "I still maintain that rabbles are vulgar, 
 and that this is a rabble," snapped the min 
 ister, draining his champagne glass, and 
 glancing about him with an expression of 
 disgust. 
 
 "I do n't know but you are right," said 
 Mrs. Cortland, "when such pronounced 
 creatures as that come here." 
 
 They all followed Mrs. Cortland 's eyes. 
 A stunning-looking woman stood in the 
 doorway. A man was with her, and they 
 were evidently waiting for a table. Her 
 face had that half sad, half defiant expres 
 sion so common to women who have had 
 to fight the world. She was strikingly beau-
 
 258 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 tiful; dreamy eyes, with curling lashes and 
 arched brows, a clear delicate skin, and 
 almost baby-like lips. Her hair was the 
 Titian shade of red. It fell about her face 
 in wavy folds, and was caught together care 
 lessly at the neck. It was her hair and the 
 extravagant clothes she was wearing which 
 had called forth Mrs. Cortland's remarks. 
 
 "Oh," replied Komlossy, "don't you 
 know her? That is Camilla Cameron. You 
 must have seen her at the Frivolity the 
 atre." 
 
 "Why, of course," replied Mrs. Cort- 
 land, raising her eyeglass. 
 
 "She is very beautiful," said Violet. As 
 she spoke the actress met her glance. Vio 
 let turned her eyes away. She saw an ex 
 pression of annoyance and embarrassment on 
 General Lloyd's face. He was looking in 
 the other direction. Violet turned to look 
 at the actress again. She met her eyes and 
 smiled in a way that was annoying. 
 
 "Did you see her stare at me?" she said 
 to Mrs. Cortland. 
 
 "Why should n't she?" interjected Kom 
 lossy. ' 'You stared at her. 
 
 Camilla Cameron and her friend passed
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 259 
 
 by them and took seats at an adjoining 
 table. Violet stole covert glances at the 
 actress. Her expression, at once so bold 
 and yet so innocent, fascinated her. She 
 caught herself listening to the conversation 
 at the next table. 
 
 "It 's perfectly absurd to wait here any 
 longer," Camilla Cameron was saying. "I 
 never saw such beastly service. Come, I 
 am going." Her companion remonstrated 
 faintly. 
 
 "I won't be treated so. Here we have 
 been for fully ten minutes without any one 
 coming near us. I am going this instant. 
 It will teach them a lesson." With a petu 
 lant toss of the head she left her seat. 
 
 As she passed their table Violet saw her 
 smile at General Lloyd. He turned his 
 eyes away and colored. 
 
 A quick expression of anger crossed the 
 actress' face. She stopped suddenly. "I 
 say, Dick," she said, "you needn't be so 
 uppish with an old pal." 
 
 "How dare you!" said the General un 
 der his breath. 
 
 The actress laughed. Then turning to 
 Violet she said suddenly: "You '11 find he
 
 260 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 has a bad temper, Miss Duncan at least 
 that was my experience." 
 
 "You '11 pay for this," hissed General 
 Lloyd. 
 
 "Really!" said the actress, with a shrug 
 of the shoulders. Then she passed quickly 
 out of the room. 
 
 There was a moment of silence. Kom- 
 lossy tried to look unconcerned. General 
 Lloyd was trembling with rage and morti 
 fication, while Mrs. Cortland looked at Vio 
 let pityingly for the moment she was at a 
 loss for anything to say. 
 
 Violet was the first to break the silence. 
 She was pale, and her lips trembled as she 
 spoke. "I hope you did not forget those 
 seats for to-morrow night, Richard," she 
 said, addressing General Lloyd. 
 
 "I hear there is to be a great crowd," put 
 in Komlossy, glad of an opportunity to speak. 
 "Malve has never sung Carmen before." 
 
 "I have something better than seats," 
 replied General Lloyd. "I have Mrs. Des 
 Brosses's box." 
 
 But the conversation was labored. Each 
 was thinking his own thoughts. Soon Mrs. 
 Cortland made the motion to leave the
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 261 
 
 table. She and Violet were staying in the 
 hotel, so they wandered toward the eleva 
 tor. General Lloyd followed quickly. "I 
 wish to speak to you," he said to Violet. 
 
 She turned and looked him full in the 
 face. 
 
 "Not to-night," she said. "I could not 
 talk to you to-night." 
 
 "As you will," he answered, bowing per 
 functorily. 
 
 Mrs. Cortland had never been taken so 
 completely off her guard before. Though 
 a woman of the world, she had been so 
 shocked by the actress's extraordinary con 
 duct that she had simply looked on in 
 amazement, unable to do anything to relieve 
 the embarrassment. 
 
 She felt such sympathy for Violet that 
 she longed to do something or say some 
 thing to make the shock easier for her to 
 bear; but when she reached their room, all 
 she did was to place her arm tenderly on 
 Violet's shoulder, and murmur, "poor 
 child." 
 
 Violet turned and looked at her. Evi 
 dent determination was in her eyes. 
 
 "I am glad it happened," she said.
 
 262 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Glad!" exclaimed Mrs. Cortland. 
 
 "Yes," answered Violet. "That that 
 woman has taught me to realise that I am 
 no better than she. We have both sold 
 ourselves. What is the difference between 
 us? Merely one of conventionality mor 
 ally we are the same." 
 
 "Don't talk like that, child," protested 
 Mrs. Cortland. "You don't know what 
 you are saying. It is not too late. You 
 need not marry General Lloyd. You 
 have been humiliated in public. You have 
 a right to break your engagement." 
 
 Violet shook her head thoughtfully. 
 "No," she said. "It would not bring back 
 my self-respect, nor the respect of one I 
 might have loved had I not been a fool." 
 
 "I wish you would listen to reason, Vio 
 let," said Mrs. Cortland, stroking her hair 
 gently. "I am older than you, and know 
 the world better." 
 
 "But you do not know all that I have 
 done," Violet answered, looking up into 
 her face hopelessly. "I sold myself to 
 General Lloyd in a moment of pique a 
 moment of wounded pride. He has done
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 263 
 
 what I have asked of him. There is honor 
 even among thieves. 
 
 She took both Mrs. Cortland's hands and 
 held them tightly. "Forget what I have 
 told you," she continued. "The excite 
 ment made me forget myself. 
 
 "Violet," answered the elder, woman, 
 "what you say to me in confidence is safe. 
 But, for God's sake, break your engage 
 ment!" 
 
 Violet shook her head slowly. "No," 
 she said, "I am going to marry General 
 Lloyd. He may insult me if he likes he 
 may beat me, but I am going to marry 
 him. He has fulfilled his part of the bar 
 gain I shall fulfill mine. ' '
 
 XIX 
 
 "IS'T NOT A BRAVE MAN?" 
 Troilus and Cressida, I. z. 
 
 Violet stood in the window of a Michigan 
 Avenue hotel, gazing at the park below. 
 The panoply of war was there, for Chicago 
 was in the throes of industrial strife. A 
 white city had arisen during the night, and 
 now artillery frowned upon the crowd 
 where only yesterday the ranting of dema 
 gogues had called forth deeds of violence. 
 Groups of blue-coated soldiers lay stretched 
 upon the grass, and bronzed sentries paced 
 to and fro with measured tread. A flag 
 fluttered before the commandant's quarters; 
 troop-horses picketed together munched 
 their forage with peaceful content, while 
 crouching before smouldering camp-fires 
 were the company cooks preparing the 
 noon-day meal. Beyond the white camp 
 was blue Lake Michigan, and beyond the 
 lake was the hazy sky of summer. 
 
 It seemed to Violet that this tented city 
 264
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 265 
 
 must have been there always, so regularly 
 was it built, so quietly was it ordered but 
 the dragon's teeth of insurrection had been 
 sown but yesterday. The crowd gazed in 
 sullen silence at the tawny warriors, for 
 there was an air of earnestness about those 
 regulars of Uncle Sam, which even the mob 
 respected. For days the police and militia 
 had temporized with the rioters, until the 
 wheels of commerce were still, and the glare 
 of burning freight cars lighted the sky by 
 night. Then the little garrison from Sheri 
 dan had marched quietly to the front, and 
 held the mobs at bay until troops hurriedly 
 summoned from distant posts arrived to 
 reinforce the faithful command. Now an 
 army held the strategic points in the great 
 city, and those soldiers sleeping there in 
 the sun were merely the reserves kept in 
 readiness to march to the place of danger. 
 
 Secretary Duncan had been to Spring 
 field for a needed rest, and Violet ac 
 companied him. A year ago nothing would 
 have persuaded her to visit Springfield, 
 but her views of life had changed since 
 then. She was glad to be away from the 
 world away from General Lloyd. In
 
 266 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 September she was to be married. She 
 counted the intervening hours like a pris 
 oner awaiting a death sentence. 
 
 But the quiet days at Springfield were 
 cut short by the industrial war. Secretary 
 Duncan was summoned hurriedly to Wash 
 ington. He managed to reach Chicago, but 
 there his progress was arrested. Not a 
 train was running to the Eastward. 
 
 As Violet stood in the window, gazing at 
 the camp below, she repeated to herself 
 these lines: "But four things in this world 
 are: Power and women, horses and war." 
 
 "Power," she said. "What is it? 
 Merely gratified conceit. 'Horses and 
 war.' Yes, I can understand their fascina 
 tion war, especially for in war one must 
 forget self that is, unless one is a coward. 
 To forget self even for a moment must be 
 happiness." 
 
 There was a hasty movement in the crowd 
 below. A mounted orderly passed through 
 the lines and dashed on toward the com 
 mandant's tent. 
 
 Violet watched the dusty trooper dis 
 mount, salute, and hand his dispatches to 
 the commanding officer. Then an order
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 267 
 
 was given a bugle sounded, and a group 
 of soldiers stretched upon the grass were on 
 their feet in an instant, hurriedly saddling 
 the horses of their troop. 
 
 Again the bugle called, and the troopers 
 swung into the saddle. Violet could not 
 help admiring that swarthy line astride 
 their wiry mounts. They were "business " 
 soldiers, ready for action; blue flannel 
 shirts, rakish slouch hats, canvas belts 
 bristling with long thin cartridges, a single 
 fluttering guidon, and here and there a yel 
 low stripe upon the trousers of an officer; 
 there was none of the pomp of the holiday 
 parade. 
 
 A sharp order was given. Then, break 
 ing into column of fours, the troops rode 
 through the lines into the street. A loud 
 hiss arose from the crowd, answered by the 
 clear notes of the bugle; then the clatter of 
 hoofs resounded on the pavement, as the 
 command broke into a trot and dashed off 
 down the street. That officer riding at the 
 head of the column the gray campaign 
 hat hid his features, but Violet would have 
 known the tall, powerful figure anywhere. 
 It was Jack Hardy. A sudden thrill of
 
 268 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 pleasure filled her heart. She leaned from 
 the window and waved her hand. Then 
 she laughed at her foolish action. Who 
 could see her there, six stories above the 
 street? Her soldier! She sighed at the 
 thought. Oh, how irrevocably she was 
 separated from that officer, riding there at 
 the head of his troop. 
 
 She looked long after the line of cavalry 
 until only a faint cloud of dust was visible 
 down the long, straight boulevard. Then 
 she turned away from the window sadly. 
 "Poor old Jack," she sighed; "how little I 
 understood him in the old days. He is a 
 man, every inch of him a girl should be 
 proud to love him," she hesitated. ''And 
 I thought love was so different. I thought it 
 must be sudden and overwhelming I 
 thought it could not come gently and grad 
 ually, as mere friendship, until by and by 
 it ripened into love. Yes, I thought a 
 great many foolish things then, and now I 
 am paying the price now, when it is too 
 late." She covered her eyes with her 
 hands. "Pride!" she cried. "If it were 
 not for the pride which masters me, I might 
 be happy even now.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 269 
 
 Late that afternoon, Violet looking from 
 the window saw Jack Hardy's troopers ride 
 back to camp. They rode slowly this time, 
 walking their horses. The commanding 
 general was talking earnestly with her fa 
 ther in the adjoining room the door was 
 ajar, and she heard their words : 
 
 "We are powerless, Mr. Secretary," the 
 General was saying, "without orders to 
 fire." 
 
 "The President insists that the riot can 
 be put down without bloodshed by a suffi 
 cient show of force," answered Secretary 
 Duncan. ' ' We can order more troops here. ' ' 
 
 "The President is in Washington. He 
 does not know the temper of the mob. 
 Pardon me, Mr. Secretary, but you your 
 self do not know what the troops have to 
 contend with." 
 
 "The mob has not attacked the troops 
 openly as yet," said the Secretary. 
 
 "No, but they continue to destroy prop 
 erty. It is four days since the Sheridan 
 garrison were ordered in, and the riot grows 
 more formidable every hour. The entire 
 army would not be sufficient to guard every 
 point. The mob grows more insolent every
 
 270 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 day; they think the troops are afraid to 
 fire. They need one good lesson just a 
 volley or two right into them there won't 
 be any trouble after that." 
 
 "I can 't bear to think of slaughtering 
 innocent people. Order more troops the 
 batteries at Riley; they are afraid of artil 
 lery." 
 
 "Soldiers are not policemen, Mr. Secre 
 tary," said the General indignantly. "They 
 are trained to fight. This work is destroy 
 ing their efficiency; the men have been 
 abused and insulted to such an extent that 
 I cannot answer for their discipline much 
 longer. I fear they will fire without orders, 
 and I do n't know that I will blame them, 
 either." 
 
 "You do not understand a mob, Gen 
 eral," answered the Secretary. "Mobs are 
 arrant cowards; they talk, but they don't 
 fight not with regulars, at least." 
 
 "I should like to give orders to fire, just 
 once I will answer for the rest. Chicago 
 would be as quiet as a country village. Do 
 you remember ninety-four? It was the 
 same story then. When the troops fired, 
 it was all over."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 271 
 
 "And innocent people were killed." 
 
 "Innocent people," expostulated the 
 General. "A man who joins a mob isn't 
 innocent if he is, he deserves to be shot 
 for being a fool. Just let me tell you one 
 incident which happened only this after 
 noon, and you will see what my officers and 
 men have to contend with. Fortunately, 
 the right man was in the right place, or it 
 might not have ended so successfully. A 
 mob of about five thousand made a sudden 
 demonstration against Slow & Co.'s pack 
 ing-house. It was a new point of attack, 
 and there were no troops there. They tele 
 phoned for assistance. I ordered B Troop, 
 I2th Cavalry, Lieutenant Hardy command 
 ing, to their relief." 
 
 Violet started at the mention of Jack's 
 name. She had seen the troops march 
 forth had seen them return. She listened 
 attentively for the story of their prowess. 
 
 "When the command arrived," the Gen 
 eral continued, "the rioters were tearing 
 down the fence and hurling stones at the 
 windows. Hardy ordered a charge mobs 
 do n't like horses they hate to get trampled 
 on. So he cleared the street, and taking
 
 272 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 possession of the packing-house, threw out 
 his sentries." 
 
 "Well," said the Secretary, "he did it 
 without firing, did n't he?" 
 
 "Exactly. They run at the first sight of 
 the troops but when they see they are 
 only men, and only a few of them at that, 
 they get over being afraid and come back. 
 When Lieutenant Hardy had thrown out 
 his sentries, he left a sergeant in command 
 at the picket line and ordered the troop 
 inside the big fence. Then the mob came 
 back thousands of men howling and 
 shouting. A big butcher from the stock 
 yards was the leader. He harangued the 
 crowd about the cowardice of the soldiers; 
 said they were afraid to shoot all they 
 needed to do was to rush them and grab 
 their muskets there were only ten of them 
 there the others dare n't come out. To 
 prove his words, he stepped up to a sentry 
 and slapped his face, calling him a vile 
 name. The man, writhing under the in 
 sult, fingered the trigger of his piece, but 
 stood there immovable he had his orders. 
 The crowd yelled with delight. A shower 
 of stones and sticks was their reply. One
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 273 
 
 soldier was badly wounded in the face. 
 The butcher, delighted with the outcome of 
 his prowess, stepped up to another sentry 
 and spat in his face. This man threw his 
 piece to his shoulder. 'Stop!' cried the 
 sergeant in command. 'Not without 
 orders!' Down came the piece." 
 
 "I thought you could not answer for the 
 discipline, General," laughed Secretary 
 Duncan. 
 
 "Wait till you hear the rest, Mr. Secre 
 tary. Trembling with rage, the sergeant 
 went to Lieutenant Hardy. 'For God's 
 sake, sir, let the men fire,' he said with tears 
 in his eyes. 'Not until we are fired upon. 
 Oui orders are positive.' Then the ser 
 geant told how the sentries had been in 
 sulted. 'Men can 't stand that, Lieuten 
 ant,' he pleaded. 'The boys will fire 
 without orders.' 
 
 " 'Then they will be tried for murder,' 
 said Hardy coldly. The sergeant looked 
 at his officer beseechingly. Then, taking 
 off his blouse and hat he threw them on the 
 ground. 'There, sir,' he said, 'I ain't in 
 the uniform now. Let me go out and lick 
 that fellow, won't you, sir?' 'Put on your
 
 274 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 blouse, sergeant,' answered Hardy sternly. 
 Then without another word he walked 
 quickly out of the gate and faced the mob. 
 The big butcher was talking to the crowd, 
 and calling on them to clean the soldiers 
 out. When the mob caught sight of Hardy 
 they shouted with delight. 'Look at the 
 dude!' and all that sort of thing. With 
 out a word, Hardy walked up to the 
 butcher, and touched him quickly on the 
 shoulder. 'Did you insult an American 
 soldier acting under orders? Answer me!' 
 The fellow took a step backward. Then 
 the mob jeered. 'Chaw the dude up, Billy. 
 Make sausage of him!' This gave the bully 
 encouragement. 'I did spit in the face of 
 a soldier, and I '11 do the same to you,' he 
 said. 'You coward,' cried Hardy. 'De 
 fend yourself, for I 'm going to knock you 
 down.' Then the butcher doubled his 
 fists, and led out at the officer, but Hardy 
 was too lively for him. He made one or 
 two beautiful passes, and then, quick as a 
 flash, he got in a cross-counter, and the 
 butcher lay flat upon the pavement. The 
 crowd yelled with delight. Hardy was 
 master of the situation then. 'Boys,' he
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 275 
 
 said, turning around and addressing them, 
 'I 'm here for business. I 'm not looking 
 for trouble, but I '11 know what to do with 
 it when it comes. You see those soldiers 
 there? Each of them can shoot a dozen 
 times a minute, and kill three times out of 
 five at three hundred yards. Now, I 'm 
 not going to tell them to shoot until I have 
 to, but when I do, God help you I can 't. ' 
 
 " 'Hurrah for the dude! He ain't no 
 slouch!' yelled the crowd. 
 
 " 'Now, boys,' Hardy continued, point 
 ing at the butcher who had just risen to his 
 feet, and was slinking away, 'as long as you 
 have n't got anything better than that to 
 send to the scratch, I sha'n't worry much; 
 but my advice to you is to go quietly 
 home, and not monkey with a buzz saw 
 because you'll get hurt; the buzz saw 
 won't.' He stopped then, and looked at 
 the crowd smiling. 
 
 " 'Three cheers for the Lieutenant!' 'I 
 say, Mister, come around to Lacy's and 
 we '11 buy you a drink!' 'I '11 back you 
 against Fitzsimmons!' and similar cries 
 showed the nature of the crowd. Then one 
 fellow got on a barrel, and called out
 
 276 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 loudly: 'Boys, there 's a company of militia 
 over at the Wabash yards. We can have 
 some fun over there we do n't want to 
 stay here this dude is too good a fellow to 
 quarrel with and besides, I do n't want to 
 get hurt, do you?' With a loud cheer for 
 Hardy, the crowd broke away in the direc 
 tion of the Wabash yards, but they never 
 got there there were too many saloons on 
 the way." 
 
 "Well," said the Secretary, ' 'I do n't see 
 but you have proved how unnecessary it is 
 to fire. If one brave man can disperse a 
 mob alone " 
 
 "If," answered the general. "But how 
 many officers like Hardy are there in the 
 army?" 
 
 "Yes, Hardy is a soldier, every inch 
 of him," said Secretary Duncan. "But 
 he certainly did not tell that story him 
 self." 
 
 "No, sir. His report was simply: 'Mob 
 dispersed quietly on appearance of com 
 mand await further orders.' I sent a 
 company of infantry to relieve him. Cav 
 alry is too valuable to garrison a packing 
 house. I learned the story through my in-
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 277 
 
 telligence service. You may not know, 
 Mr. Secretary, that I have a volunteer 
 secret service corps a lot of young bi 
 cyclists, who like to be mixed up in a row 
 of this sort. They have relay stations all 
 over the city. Some of them are in every 
 mob. If anything occurs, I get a full re 
 port in a very short time. In that way I 
 keep informed of the movements of the 
 enemy." 
 
 Violet entered the room quietly. "Gen 
 eral Wright," she said, "I happened to 
 hear what you were saying. The door was 
 open, and I was too interested to close it. 
 Lieutenant Hardy is an old friend of mine, 
 you know." 
 
 "Then you should be proud of your 
 friend. He is a brave man," answered the 
 General with enthusiasm. 
 
 There was a ring to those words which 
 thrilled Violet through and through they 
 suggested strength and daring, and manli 
 ness. The General's story had brought 
 Jack nearer to her than he had ever been 
 before. Lieutenant Hardy crushing that 
 bully, and facing the mob alone, was a very 
 different person from the quiet, diffident
 
 278 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 Jack who had wearied her with too much 
 loving. He was a hero, and deep in her 
 heart every woman loves a hero. 
 
 "A brave man!" She repeated those 
 words over and over again that night as she 
 turned restlessly in her bed. In vain she 
 tried to close her eyes, but the events of the 
 year rushed confusedly through her brain. 
 Crafty Ritchie Maitland, with no more 
 manliness than a crawling worm she 
 shuddered at the thought of him. Yet he 
 had fascinated her once. And the man she 
 was going to marry that cold, circumspect 
 politician, with his brutal views of woman 
 hood and love it had been so easy to give 
 herself to him in a moment of anger to 
 sell herself for power and riches. She had 
 forsworn the hope of love and now, when 
 it was too late "Fool!" she said aloud, 
 in anger, "what right have you to any other 
 fate?" But she could not sleep. She was 
 thinking of Jack Hardy the one man in 
 all the world whom she might love, were 
 love possible. The thought came to her 
 that she might break her promise to Gen 
 eral Lloyd. But pride was her besetting
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 279 
 
 vice. "Never," she cried; "never will I 
 break my word." 
 
 The first ray of morning entered the 
 room. Violet sprang from her bed impul 
 sively and ran to the open window. She 
 had not slept the entire night long, and she 
 welcomed the day. 
 
 In the park below was the sleeping camp, 
 gray and shadowy. Before the guard tent, 
 a group of gnome-like figures crouched be 
 fore a fire. The measured beat of the sen 
 tries' feet echoed from the pavement. All 
 else was silence. Beyond the park was 
 slumbering Michigan, calm and silvery. 
 Fleecy clouds floated among the stars, 
 while, hovering low above the water, was a 
 bank of purple mist. Across the sky came 
 a glow of orange light the shadowy grass 
 below grew mossy green, and golden ripples 
 danced upon the lake. The clear notes of 
 a distant trumpet were echoed nearer and 
 nearer, from camp to camp, and sleepy sol 
 diers groping from their tents formed shad 
 owy lines of blue, in obedience to reveille 
 call. Then the sky glowed crimson, and 
 the sun disc rose above the lake, birds
 
 28o THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 twittered, and the noises of the day broke 
 forth. A tall officer was standing before 
 his tent, and Violet knew, as she gazed at 
 his familiar form, that the love for which 
 she had waited so long had dawned.
 
 XX 
 
 " FOR LOVE OF YOU, NOT HATE." 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona t III. i. 
 
 Amid the clatter of hoofs and clank of scab 
 bards, Troop B, 1 2th Cavalry, swept through 
 the sally-port at Fort Sheridan. There 
 was a glint of yellow plumes above a cloud 
 of dust then a sharp command, and the 
 sun-burned troopers swung into line from 
 columns of fours, and trotted on to the 
 quickstep music of the band. 
 
 There were other troops of horse a regi 
 ment in all manoeuvring in squadron 
 formation, with fluttering guidons and 
 sabres flashing in the light of the setting 
 sun. From the barracks and the camp be 
 yond they came with mounted band, and 
 brilliant officers with caracoling chargers, to 
 parade before the Secretary of War. 
 
 It was a sight to thrill with all the 
 
 splendor and glitter of military pomp ; but 
 
 to Violet it seemed tawdry and spectacular 
 
 after the war scenes of the fortnight be- 
 
 281
 
 282 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 fore. There was Jack Hardy riding in 
 command of Troop B, with head erect and 
 eyes straight to the front but the gilded 
 shoulder-knots and the yellow plumes, the 
 helmet cord and the horse trappings it re 
 minded her of Washington, and the carpet 
 soldiers there. She thought of Troop B as 
 she had seen them ride forth from camp 
 "business " soldiers, with gray slouch hats 
 and flannel shirts, with canvas belts, and 
 carbines swinging from the saddle-trees 
 and her heart thrilled with pride. But 
 that glittering dragoon was it the earnest 
 soldier who had faced a mob alone the 
 brave officer who won his general's praise 
 the man she loved? 
 
 She trembled at the thought of love, and 
 turned her face away. Duty bound her to 
 another. Was it duty or pride? She 
 asked herself the question and laughed 
 then a hard look came into her eyes. She 
 would crush that new-born love; crush it 
 as a thing which could never be. 
 
 There was a dance at the Officers' Mess 
 that evening ; three thousand regulars were 
 camped at the post the army which had 
 defended Chicago. Now that the strikes
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 283 
 
 were over, there were to be manoeuvres and 
 practice marches, before the troops were 
 dispatched to their various posts. 
 
 It was a gala night at Fort Sheridan. 
 The visiting officers swelled the ranks of the 
 dancing men, and maids and matrons came 
 from miles around. 
 
 Violet, who had dined with the com 
 manding officer, came late to the dance. 
 As she entered the room the band was play 
 ing a lively two-step. The floor was filled 
 with dancers a confusion of ribbons and 
 tulle, gilt buttons and broad stripes of red, 
 yellow, and white. 
 
 Jack Hardy stood by the door he had 
 no heart for dancing. Violet was at the 
 post, and was expected at the ball. He had 
 not seen her since the parting in Washing 
 ton, yet the thought of meeting her was 
 painful. 
 
 It seemed to him that he could not bear 
 to look into her face again. 
 
 He heard the flutter of a dress behind 
 him; he trembled, for he knew that it was 
 Violet. 
 
 "Jack, " she said; "aren't yougoing to 
 speak to me?"
 
 284 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 He took her hand in a dazed sort of way. 
 There was much that he wished to say, but 
 the words were not forthcoming. 
 
 "I am very glad to see you," he faltered 
 finally 
 
 "You do n't act glad, Jack," said Violet. 
 "You look as though you 'd lost your last 
 friend." 
 
 She had thought she could meet him 
 without embarrassment, but there was a 
 different feeling in her heart from anything 
 she had known before a feeling of un- 
 worthiness and reverence. She had tried 
 to talk to him in the old bantering way, but 
 her words sounded silly and childish. 
 
 "Violet," said Hardy suddenly, "come 
 with me, won't you? I want to talk with 
 you. You know it is a long time since I 
 have seen you." 
 
 "Yes," she answered slowly, "a very 
 long time." 
 
 They walked together in the moonlight. 
 The wind soughed through the trees, and 
 from the ball-room came the distant strains 
 of music. In silence they passed one after 
 another of the pretty officers' houses lining
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 285 
 
 the way. Each had so much to say, yet 
 each hesitated to speak. 
 
 "You had better put this around you," 
 said Hardy finally, throwing a yellow-lined 
 cloak over her shoulders. "It is very chilly 
 here." 
 
 "Thank you, Jack," she answered, with 
 a shiver. She was frightened at her own 
 feebleness. They reached the bluff by the 
 lake. The brilliant moonlight cast sombre 
 shadows about them. Below on the beach 
 the combing surf sent its spray hissing over 
 the sand in a myriad of silvery snakes. 
 
 He was the first to break the silence. 
 "It was unkind of you, Violet, not to tell 
 me of your engagement to let me hear of 
 it from others." 
 
 He said this because it was uppermost in 
 his thoughts he had not meant to say it. 
 
 "I did write you, Jack; believe me, I 
 did. I was afraid to send the letter." 
 
 "Afraid," he repeated. "I do not un 
 derstand. Why should you be afraid?" 
 
 She turned and looked at him. "Be 
 cause my whole life has been one horrible 
 mistake. I have had two selves; one all
 
 286 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 ambition and pride, urging me on to acts of 
 vanity, making me what all the world thinks 
 me a heartless flirt; the other oh, I 
 cannot bear to think what my life might 
 have been had the other self been stronger. 
 Now, when it is too late " 
 
 "Too late, Violet!" he exclaimed. "Is 
 it too late?" 
 
 "Yes," she answered, looking over the 
 moonlit lake. "Nothing can change me 
 now. I am what I have made myself." 
 
 "I believe in you, Violet; I shall always 
 believe in you. 
 
 "Do n't, Jack, do n't say that," she pro 
 tested. "You are too noble to understand 
 such a mean person as I am. Despise me; 
 I wish you would. I should feel happier. 
 But to have you believe in me, even now 
 I can 't stand that." 
 
 He looked into her face long and earn 
 estly. 
 
 "I love you, Violet. I shall love you 
 always," he said, trembling. 
 
 It was the cry of his soul to hers. Sud 
 denly she threw her arms about his neck 
 and kissed him. For a brief moment she 
 felt the caress of his strong arms felt the
 
 " 'NOW \\HEN IT IS TOO LATE.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 287 
 
 fervent touch of his lips then with a cry 
 of pain she pushed him from her. 
 
 "I hate you," she said; "I hate you. 
 Never let me see you again." 
 
 He seized her hand, not understanding 
 her words. 
 
 "Violet, my darling," he cried, "what 
 do you mean?" 
 
 She snatched her hand from his grasp. 
 
 "Don't come near me. I hate you 
 can 't you hear that I hate you never let 
 me see you again never so long as you 
 live." 
 
 He stood there like one stunned, unable 
 to speak, unable to comprehend the mean 
 ing of her words. 
 
 She laughed a short hysterical laugh. 
 
 "I am going to marry General Lloyd, not 
 you," she cried. "I am going to have 
 power yes, power. I have no heart I 
 cannot love. You may have the love, the 
 horses and the war. 
 
 Then she turned suddenly, and ran 
 quickly back through the woods. Jack 
 Hardy stood there gazing into the dark 
 ness. He heard her laughter echo through 
 the trees; he heard the distant strains of
 
 288 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 the regimental band playing for the throng 
 of dancers but he did not hear the low 
 cry of anguish which came from Violet's 
 lips: "I have broken his heart and mine, 
 but I could not break my word."
 
 XXI 
 
 "LOVE'S FULL SACRIFICE." 
 Troilus and Cressida, I. 2. 
 
 "You are tired, dear; perhaps you would 
 like to be alone?" 
 
 General Lloyd said this with an attempt 
 at tenderness. He stood in the door of his 
 room, looking at Violet. 
 
 She did not reply. She had thrown her 
 self upon a lounge, and lay with her face 
 buried in the cushion. 
 
 He closed the door quietly, and left the 
 room. 
 
 Married! Violet shuddered at the 
 thought. That day seemed an age. Yet 
 it was only evening. In a vague way she 
 recalled the church, crowded with the faces 
 of her friends, the altar and the flowers. 
 She heard the droning of the clergyman's 
 voice and her own replies, spoken mechanic 
 ally. But there was one vision so real, so 
 hopeless, that the memory filled her heart 
 with despair. Jack Hardy sat in the body 
 289
 
 290 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 of the church. As she passed by, on the 
 arm of her husband, she met his reproachful 
 glance. She saw his pale, desperate face, 
 and she realised the awfulness of the step 
 she had taken; every act in her life came 
 back. She had been swept on by a torrent 
 of pride and vain-glory, until, like a drown 
 ing man, she felt the waters close above her. 
 
 Jack Hardy, the man she loved; her 
 heart cried out to him for pardon. In 
 wrecking his life she had wrecked her own 
 happiness the punishment was meet, so far 
 as she was concerned, but why should he 
 suffer? 
 
 She had turned away from him in laugh 
 ter, with words of hatred on her lips, at the 
 moment when she might have realised the 
 love for which her soul was starving. Since 
 then, he had come to her again and again, 
 but she had refused to see him the door 
 of her house had been closed against him. 
 She loved him, but pride had been more 
 powerful than love, and now the end 
 had come the end of everything. She 
 clutched the cushions of the lounge and 
 sobbed. Again she thought of the church 
 and the altar, and of her own words, spoken
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 291 
 
 so deliberately the words which bound her 
 forever to that old gray-haired man. She 
 prayed that she might die. Vain fool that 
 she was, no one could pity her, she could 
 not even pity herself for had she not ac 
 complished the ruin of her happiness alone 
 and unaided? Then, for a moment, she 
 was tempted to cast honor and everything 
 away. She longed to go to Jack Hardy 
 and implore his forgiveness. She would 
 defy the opinion of the world ; she would 
 give herself to him. 
 
 General Lloyd opened the door quietly. 
 "It is getting late, Violet," he said. 
 
 His words startled her; she looked up 
 suddenly. For a moment she wondered 
 why he was there. 
 
 "Do you know you have been here nearly 
 an hour?" he 'said. 
 
 "Have I?" she answered vacantly. "I 
 thought you had just gone." 
 
 He came toward her, and sat down beside 
 her; she felt him place his arm about her 
 waist. She trembled and drew herself 
 away. 
 
 His face hardened. "As you will," he 
 said.
 
 292 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "Forgive me," she answered meekly. "I 
 am very tired; my head aches. I feel as 
 though I had a band of iron about my tem 
 ples." 
 
 "Violet," he said, stroking her hair; 
 "you do not love me." 
 
 "Why do you expect it?" she answered. 
 "You know the bargain we made." 
 
 "I know that I love you," he cried, 
 throwing his arms about her; "you cruel, 
 fascinating creature. You are my wife ; do 
 you hear, my wife." 
 
 "Yes, I am your wife," she said coldly. 
 "You may beat me if you like." 
 
 He glared at her angrily. "Take care," 
 he said; "there is a limit to my patience." 
 
 "Why do you talk to me now?" she 
 asked suddenly. "Can 't you see that I 
 am tired. If you were generous, you would 
 leave me alone to-night. You would let 
 me rest. Perhaps, to-morrow it will be 
 different. Oh, let me rest to-night. Let 
 me think." 
 
 She placed her hand on his shoulder as she 
 said this, and looked into his face pleadingly. 
 
 "If you wish it," he said suddenly, leav 
 ing the seat beside her.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 293 
 
 "Thank you," she answered. 
 
 He took a step toward the door, then he 
 turned and looked at her; she did not notice 
 him, she was staring vacantly before her. 
 
 "Shall I accompany you to your room?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "No," she said. "I shall be well enough 
 here, the first sleep here." 
 
 "You are ill, Violet." 
 
 "Yes, I am ill, my head burns with fever. 
 Leave me, I beg you." 
 
 "I will leave you, but to-morrow, I shall 
 demand an answer to one question." 
 
 "As well now as then," she said. 
 
 "Then why did you marry me?" 
 
 "Because I thought you were stronger 
 than I ; because you would compel me to 
 obey you ; because my heart is broken. 
 That was what you wished, was it not a 
 wife whose heart had been broken. ' ' 
 
 "Yes," he answered coldly, "that was 
 what I wished a wife who will walk in the 
 only path possible." 
 
 "And if I rebel; if I desert you?" she 
 said looking at him curiously. 
 
 "I believe I should kill you." 
 
 She laughed. "As well that as any-
 
 294 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 thing. I will warn you in time. I will let 
 you know, so that you may have your re 
 venge " 
 
 "Violet," he cried, "if you were not so 
 cruel and so cold, I should hate you, but 
 you make me love you. I cannot help it." 
 
 "Have you forgotten your promise?" she 
 asked. "You promised to leave me alone 
 to-night." 
 
 "And I shall keep my word," he an 
 swered. 
 
 The door closed behind him. She knew 
 she was alone. Quickly she ran toward 
 the door leading to the hotel veranda, and 
 threw it wide open. 
 
 "I wish to breathe," she cried. "When 
 he is here, he robs me of the air." 
 
 She stood there gazing at the waters of 
 Hampton Roads. A fleet of warships lay 
 at anchor huge iron monsters looming in 
 the moonlight. A ship's bell clanged forth 
 the hour of eleven then a bugle from the 
 fortress beyond sounded clear on the night 
 air. Her heart beat faster. The water and 
 the moonlight, and that army bugle sounding 
 the familiar notes of "taps:" it made her 
 think of distant Sheridan, and that mo-
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 295 
 
 ment by the lake, when she had forsworn 
 love and happiness. 
 
 She was startled by a step upon the ver 
 anda. Looking up, she saw a man ap 
 proaching quickly. He was wrapped in the 
 folds of a military cloak. She took a step 
 backward into her room. As she did so 
 the moonlight fell on the man's face. 
 
 "Jack!" she exclaimed. 
 
 He started back. "Violet! Oh, I beg 
 pardon, Mrs. Lloyd " 
 
 She put out her hand. "Do n't Jack," 
 she said. "Do n't be cruel to me. I could 
 not stand it. I have suffered so much 
 already. ' ' 
 
 "I thought you only made others suffer," 
 he said coldly. "I wanted to forget you. 
 Why have you come into my life again?" 
 His lips were pressed together; he was 
 breathing quickly. 
 
 She took a step toward him, and placed 
 her hand upon his shoulder. 
 
 "I knew you would come. Something 
 told me you would come." 
 
 He turned away. "I am here on duty, 
 as aide to General Wright," he said with an 
 effort. "He is inspecting the coast defenses.
 
 296 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 I did not follow you. Thank heaven, I am 
 not so weak as that. ' ' 
 
 She took both his hands in hers. "For 
 give me, Jack oh, forgive me," she said 
 pleadingly. 
 
 ' ' Forgive you, ' ' he answered with a laugh. 
 "It is easy to forgive. You have broken 
 my heart that is all. Yes, I forgive you." 
 
 "Oh, Jack," she cried, "if you only 
 knew how I have suffered." 
 
 "Suffered," he replied. "You do not 
 know what it is to suffer not until you 
 have loved as I have loved." 
 
 "Don't, Jack. You are killing me." 
 She closed her eyes ; she dared not meet his 
 glance. 
 
 For a moment he stood there thinking. 
 It seemed so terrible to be there with her, 
 to feel the pressure of her hands, and to 
 know it was for the last time. 
 
 "Ah, Violet!" he cried impulsively. 
 "Why did you let me know for one blessed 
 moment that you loved me, and then leave 
 me so cruelly. You did love me that night 
 at Sheridan. I saw it in your eyes. Why 
 did you leave me? There must have been 
 a reason.'
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 297 
 
 She bowed her head in shame. 
 
 "There is a reason," she said. "In a 
 moment of anger I promised to marry Gen 
 eral Lloyd, in order that I might be re 
 venged for the neglect of a man who fas 
 cinated me for a few short weeks. I was 
 too proud to break my word, even though 
 it broke your heart and mine." 
 
 She spoke each word slowly and deliber 
 ately. It seemed a relief to speak the truth. 
 
 He looked at her reproachfully. 
 
 "And you call that a reason," he said. 
 
 "Forgive me, Jack. It is I who must 
 suffer now." 
 
 "I have forgiven you," he answered, 
 then he turned away abruptly the pain 
 was more than he could bear. 
 
 "Don't, Jack. Don't leave me not 
 like that." 
 
 He was afraid to answer afraid, lest in 
 speaking, he might prove his weakness. 
 With an effort of despair, he took a step 
 away from her. 
 
 . "Come back, Jack; come back," she 
 cried, seizing his arm. 
 
 "What would be the use," he asked. "I 
 have no right to stay."
 
 298 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "You shall not leave me. I love you, 
 Jack. Can 't you see that I love you?" 
 She looked into his face. There was no 
 mistaking the love in those eyes. 
 
 "Don't tempt me," he said hoarsely, 
 turning away. 
 
 "Ah, Jack. You do not love me. It is 
 I who suffer now." 
 
 "Love you, Violet. I would die for 
 you." 
 
 One moment, and she was in his arms. 
 The tremor of her lips told him of the love 
 he had awakened. 
 
 Her soft fragrant hair touched his face. 
 Oh, the ecstacy of that moment. He had 
 waited for it so long. 
 
 "Violet," he said; "I have never lived 
 till now." 
 
 She looked up into his face. 
 
 "I am yours, Jack. Do with me as you 
 will." 
 
 She was his now. No one should tear 
 her from him. What did he care for the 
 opinion of the world. She belonged to 
 him; no power could make him give 
 her up. 
 
 "Violet," he whispered; "you are not
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 299 
 
 his wife, not yet. Will you go with me 
 now before it is too late?" 
 
 She trembled, then slowly she turned 
 toward him, and raised her lips to his. 
 
 "Your hus General Lloyd, I mean. 
 Where is he?" he asked. 
 
 She turned her face away. 
 
 "He is in his room; he promised I 
 should be alone to-night;" she shuddered 
 at the sound of her words. "Oh, Jack, it 
 is all so terrible," she said, burying her face 
 on his shoulder. 
 
 "Violet," he whispered. "I want you 
 to know what you are doing now, before it 
 is too late." 
 
 "I know, Jack," she said. "I must go. 
 I could not live without you." 
 
 Then she left him suddenly. 
 
 "Wait," she whispered. "I will be 
 back. I cannot go as I am." 
 
 He stood there, waiting for her to re 
 turn. It had all happened so suddenly, 
 that he could not realise the love he had 
 awakened. It seemed like a dream. But, 
 Violet's eyes had burned into his soul as 
 they had that night at Sheridan ; her kisses 
 were upon his lips. Yes, the love for which
 
 300 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 he had waited so long had come at last. 
 She had given herself to him, for better or 
 for worse. He shuddered at the thought 
 of those words. Ah, how distant it seemed ; 
 that church with the altar and the flowers, 
 and Violet, the bride, meeting the hopeless 
 glance of his eyes suddenly, and turning 
 from him. Now she was his, but the 
 thought seemed less pleasing. He could 
 not forget the altar and the flowers, nor 
 the vows he had heard, binding her to an 
 other. He drew his cloak about him more 
 tightly. It was chilly there, in the night, 
 and the thought of the future frightened 
 him. 
 
 Violet stood in the doorway. "Jack," 
 she whispered. "I am ready." 
 
 He went to her quickly ; she trembled at 
 his approach ; her eyes looked up into his 
 face pleadingly. He kissed her the lips 
 were cold. 
 
 "Are you sure, Jack, that it is for the 
 best?" she asked. 
 
 He took both her hands in his. "Are 
 you afraid, dearest?" he said, looking into 
 her eyes. 
 
 "I love you," she answered, "with my
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 301 
 
 whole soul I love you, but would you be 
 happy with me now. You understand, dear 
 the world can we defy it?" 
 
 "No, Violet," he cried impulsively, "a 
 thousand times no. I see it now as you see 
 it each hour, each moment that we lived 
 we would regret it." 
 
 "Ah, dearest," she said. "I knew you 
 were brave and generous and would under 
 stand. While I was in there alone it all 
 seemed so terrible the thought that they 
 would turn from us because because we 
 had sinned." 
 
 His arms closed about her tenderly. A 
 new light was in her eyes, the fire and the 
 passion were gone the fire which had 
 burned through his soul. 
 
 "Yes," he said. "Your duty is to him. 
 I am going now. I dare not stay. Wher 
 ever you are, whatever you are doing, re 
 member that I love you. I belong to you, 
 Violet, now and forever." 
 
 He kissed her, knowing it was for the last 
 time; but that kiss made him braver he 
 could look into her eyes now, and feel that 
 the happiness of that moment was to en 
 dure always.
 
 302 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "I love you, Jack," she said, tenderly. 
 "I shall love you always. Good-bye, dear 
 est, good-bye." 
 
 In a moment he had gone. She stood 
 there alone, gazing into the night, listening 
 to the last echo of his step. 
 
 "Ah, how bitter the lesson," she sighed. 
 "The lesson of pride." 
 
 Then she turned away, thankful for that 
 one moment of happiness. 
 
 She started back suddenly, trembling and 
 frightened. General Lloyd stood in the 
 doorway. 
 
 "Do not be frightened," he said; "you 
 have nothing to fear." 
 
 She saw the look in his face. It was 
 different from any she had seen before. 
 
 "You were there," she said. "You 
 heard?" 
 
 "Yes, Violet," he answered. "The win 
 dow of my room was open. I heard all " 
 
 "And you did not come you did not " 
 
 "Kill you," he laughed. "Yes, I almost 
 did. See, I was ready," he said, raising 
 the pistol he held in his hand. 
 
 She shuddered.
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 303 
 
 "There is nothing to fear, Violet. I 
 have learned much to-night. I know now 
 why you can never love me. I have learned 
 what love is " 
 
 "And you can forgive?" she asked. 
 
 "Forgive," he said. "I thank both of 
 you, for you have taught me a lesson. I 
 never knew before what it was to be gener 
 ous, and brave. I have lived for selfishness 
 alone. I have made others suffer to gratify 
 me. I have scoffed at virtue and love, and 
 all that was good; but you, Violet, have 
 taught me to-night, that there is more in 
 life than mere pleasure." 
 
 "Ah, but how near I came to forgetting 
 it," she said. 
 
 "And how much cause you had to forget 
 it. In my heart I could not have blamed 
 you. I had no right to expect your 
 love. 
 
 He came toward her. Taking her hand, he 
 said gently: 
 
 "Violet, dear, I will not even ask you 
 to make the pretense of loving me. Let us 
 go through life as we do this night each 
 apart. Let us be friends, that is all. Per-
 
 304 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 haps together we can do some good in the 
 world, and in a measure undo the terrible 
 mistake you have made." 
 
 She looked into his eyes tenderly. She 
 could not find the words to thank him.
 
 ' MRS. CORTLAND WAS ALONE.'
 
 XXII 
 
 "I LAUGH TO SEE YOUR LADYSHIP SO FOND." 
 
 Henry VI, III. /. 
 
 The band ceased playing. Mrs. Cort- 
 land stifled a yawn. She was very much 
 bored. It was an "off season" at New 
 port; except on Sunday, men were a rare 
 commodity, and on Sunday they all played 
 golf. The coterie of diplomats, usually so 
 ubiquitous there, was scattered along the 
 coast, mostly at New London. 
 
 Mrs. Cortland glanced about the grounds 
 of the Casino ; there was no one there ex 
 cept some women, quite as bored as herself, 
 and a sprinkling of old men and college 
 boys. 
 
 The situation was growing desperate. 
 
 She wished she had gone to Europe, that 
 summer, as she had intended; now Bar 
 Harbor seemed the only alternative. 
 
 Again she stifled a yawn. 
 
 She heard a step behind her. It was the 
 step of a man. She turned her head 
 305
 
 306 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 slightly. "Why!" she exclaimed, "where 
 on earth did you come from?" 
 
 Komlossy quickened his pace, and came 
 toward her. 
 
 "I came from Japan to see you," he 
 said. 
 
 "I fear Japan has not improved your 
 veracity. Sit down, and tell me the truth. 
 What are you doing here?" 
 
 "You may not believe me," Komlossy 
 said, as he took the seat beside her; "but I 
 repeat again that I came to see you." 
 
 "Not all the way from Japan. That is 
 too large an order for even my credulity." 
 
 "Well, to be very truthful, from New 
 York. I arrived there yesterday. Three 
 weeks at sea, a week in the train. I could 
 not sail until Saturday. I was terribly 
 bored. I thought of you, and here I am." 
 
 "Now we are getting at the truth, so I 
 am merely an after-thought." 
 
 Komlossy looked at her and laughed. 
 "You are the only woman who is a thought 
 of any kind ; you ought to be very much 
 complimented." 
 
 "At being considered an antidote for 
 boredom."
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 307 
 
 "No, at being remembered fondly for 
 two whole years. You forget I have been 
 in Japan. 
 
 "Ah, I begin to see it now," said Mrs. 
 Cortland, dryly. "I suppose that is a com 
 pliment, judging by all one hears about the 
 charms of the the Geisha is that what 
 you call it?" 
 
 "My dear madame, I am serious so sel 
 dom that it is uncharitable not to encour 
 age me in my admiration of your charming 
 self. When a man of my age fosters a mad 
 passion for two whole years, in such a dis 
 tant corner of the earth as Japan, he de 
 serves to be encouraged." 
 
 Mrs. Cortland looked at him quizzically. 
 Then she laughed. "And you expect me 
 to believe that?" she said. 
 
 "Implicitly." 
 
 "Really, Komlossy, you should not trifle 
 so with my young affections. You are old 
 enough to know better." 
 
 Komlossy smiled. "I am a serious man. 
 I am ambassador now ambassadors are 
 always serious." 
 
 "Ah, yes. I heard of your promotion. 
 Paris. How unfortunate. You will never
 
 308 THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 live to enjoy your luck. There are too 
 many good cooks there. You will die of 
 indigestion within a month." 
 
 He scowled. "I regret having come to 
 Newport," he said. 
 
 1 'In other words you could not have been 
 more bored in New York. 
 
 "Exactly, but I will give you one more 
 chance to redeem yourself. Tell me all the 
 gossip. ' ' 
 
 "That is uncomplimentary, only old 
 women gossip. ' ' 
 
 "Well, tell me the news then. You re 
 member I have been out of the world." 
 
 "News," she said, "that is different. I 
 suppose I must do something to keep you 
 here men are at a premium in Newport. 
 Let me see, what would interest you ah, 
 I have it. General Lloyd's death. Have 
 you heard about it?" 
 
 "Really!" he exclaimed. "That is news. 
 No, I had not heard." 
 
 "Yes, he died last week." 
 
 "How seldom a man dies at the right 
 time. It must be a great relief to his wife." 
 
 "I am not quite sure about that," said 
 Mrs, Cortland, thoughtfully. "You see,
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS 309 
 
 Violet turned out very differently from 
 what we all expected." 
 
 "She spent his money, did n't she?" 
 
 "Yes, but not in the way we expected. 
 They lived quietly in the country. The 
 General gave up politics, Violet gave up 
 society, and they both went in for philan 
 thropy waifs' missions, hospitals, and all 
 that sort of thing. I actually believe they 
 were fond of each other, or of the hospitals. 
 I could never make out which." 
 
 "How banale," said the Hungarian in 
 disgust. 
 
 "You never could appreciate anything 
 but a good dinner, Komlossy." 
 
 "Pardon me; you forget yourself" he 
 said, suavely. 
 
 "Ah, then you actually raise me to the 
 level of a cook. I am very grateful." 
 
 "Why will you continue to disbelieve in 
 me. I came all the way to Newport to see 
 you." 
 
 "From New York, not Japan," she in 
 terrupted. 
 
 ' ' I had to reach New York first, because 
 my ticket read that way." 
 
 "Well?"
 
 3io THE VICE OF FOOLS 
 
 "I am sailing for France on Saturday." 
 
 "And?" 
 
 "I wish you would believe I am seri 
 ous." 
 
 "About what?" 
 
 "About you." 
 
 She burst out laughing. "Oh, really, 
 that is too much to ask." 
 
 He frowned. "There was a time when 
 I thought you had a heart, but you cured 
 me of the idea. You and, indirectly, 
 Brankovan!" 
 
 "Ah, my heart is another matter." 
 
 "The matter is that you have never ap 
 preciated me my devotion I mean." 
 
 She turned suddenly, and looked at him. 
 "Komlossy," she said. "Seriously I think 
 you are a dear old thing, and if you must 
 know the truth, I am quite fond of you."
 
 PRINTED AT THE LAKESIDE PRESS 
 
 FOR HERBERT S. STONE & CO. 
 
 PUBLISHERS, CHICAGO
 
 THE PUBLICATIONS OF 
 HERBERT S. STONE 
 & CO. THE CHAP-BOOK 
 The HOUSE BEAUTIFUL 
 
 CAXTON BUILDING, CHICAGO 
 
 in FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK 
 
 1897
 
 CAXTON BUILDING, CHICAGO 
 III FIFTH AVE., NEW YORK 
 
 THE PUBLICATIONS OF 
 HERBERT S. STONE 
 & CO. THE CHAP-BOOK 
 The HOUSE BEAUTIFUL 
 
 Ade, George. 
 
 ARTIE : A Story of the Streets and of the 
 Town. With many pictures by JOHN T. 
 McCuTCHEON. i6mo. $1.25. 
 
 Ninth thousand. 
 
 "Mr. Ade shows all the qualities of a successful 
 novelist." Chicago Tribune. 
 
 " Artie is a character, and George A.de has 
 limned him deftly as well as amusingly. Under 
 his rollicking abandon and recklessness we are 
 made to feel the real sense and sensitiveness, and 
 the worldly wisdom of a youth whose only lan 
 guage is that of a street-gamin. As a study of the 
 peculiar type chosen, it is both typical and inimi 
 table." Detroit Free Press. 
 
 "It is brim full of fun and picturesque slang. 
 Nobody will be any the worse for reading about 
 Artie, if he does talk slang. He's a good fellow 
 at heart, and Mamie Carroll is the ' making of 
 him.' He talks good sense and good morality, and 
 these things have n't yet gone out of style, even in 
 Chicago." Neiv Tork Recorder.
 
 " Well-meaning admirers have compared Artie 
 to Chimmie Fadden, but Mr. Townsend's creation, 
 excellent as it is, cannot be said to be entirely free 
 from exaggeration. The hand of Chimmie Fad- 
 den's maker is to be discerned at times. And just 
 here Artie is particularly strong he is always 
 Artie, and Mr. Ade is always concealed, and never 
 obtrudes his personality." Chicago Post. 
 
 " George Ade is a writer, the direct antithesis of 
 Stephen Crane. In 'Artie ' he has given the world 
 a story of the streets at once wholesome, free, and 
 stimulating. The world is filled with people like 
 'Artie ' Blanchard and his ' girl,' ' Mamie ' Carroll, 
 and the story of their lives, their hopes, and 
 dreams, and loves, is immeasurably more whole 
 some than all the stories like 'George's Mother' 
 that could be written by an army of the writers 
 who call themselves realists." Editorial, Albany 
 Evening Journal. 
 
 Ade, George. 
 
 PINK MARSH : A Story of the Streets and 
 of the Town. With forty full-page pic 
 tures by JOHN T. McCurcHEON. i6mo. 
 Uniform with Artie. $1.25. 
 
 Fourth thousand. 
 
 "There is, underlying these character sketches, 
 a refinement of feeling that wins and retains one's 
 admiration." St. Louis Globe- Democrat. 
 
 "Here is a perfect triumph of characterization. 
 * * * Pink must become a household word." 
 Kansas City Star. 
 
 "These sprightly sketches do for the Northern 
 town negro what Mr. Joel Chandler Harris's
 
 Bloundelle-Burton, John. 
 
 ACROSS THE SALT SEAS : A Romance of 
 the War of Succession. By the author of 
 "In the Day of Adversity," "The Hispan- 
 iola Plate" " A Gentleman Adventurer " 
 etc. I2mo. $1.50. 
 
 In " The Hispaniola Plate" Mr. Burton showed 
 his familiarity with the stories of the buccaneers 
 of the Spanish Main. In this new story there is 
 still this picturesque element, although the scene 
 is the battle of Vigo and the looting of the Spanish 
 galleons. The hero escapes through Spain in an 
 attempt to reach Marlborough in Flanders, and 
 has many exciting though not improbable adven 
 tures. Any one who cares for good fighting, and 
 in whose ears the "sack of Maracaibo" and the 
 "fall of Panama" have an alluring sound, will 
 like the book. There is also an attractive love 
 story in a rather unusual form. 
 
 Chap-Book Essays. 
 
 A VOLUME OF REPRINTS FROM THE 
 CHAP - BOOK. Contributions by T. W. 
 HIGGINSON, H. W. MABIE, LOUISE 
 CHANDLER MOULTON, H. H. BOYE- 
 SEN, EDMUND GOSSE, JOHN BURROUGHS, 
 NORMAN HAPGOOD, MRS. REGINALD 
 DE KOVEN, LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY, 
 LEWIS E. GATES, ALICE MORSE EARLE, 
 LAURENCE JERROLD, RICHARD HENRY 
 STODDARD, EVE BLANTYRE SIMPSON, 
 6
 
 and MAURICE THOMPSON, with a cover 
 designedly A. E. BoRlE. l6mo. $1.25. 
 
 Chap-Book Stories. 
 
 A VOLUME OF REPRINTS FROM THE 
 CHAP-BOOK. Contributions by OCTAVE 
 THANET, GRACE ELLERY CHANNING, 
 MARIA LOUISE POOL, and Others. i6mo. 
 $1.25. Second edition . 
 
 The authors of this volume are all American. 
 Besides the well-known names, there are some 
 which were seen in the Chap-Book for the first 
 time. The volume is bound in an entirely new 
 and startling fashion. 
 
 Chatfield-Taylor, H. C. 
 
 THE LAND OF THE CASTANET: Span 
 ish Sketches, with twenty -Jive full-page 
 illustrations. I2mo. $1.25. 
 
 "Gives the reader an insight into the life of 
 Spain at the present time which he cannot get 
 elsewhere." Cincinnati Commercial Tribune. 
 
 " Mr. Chatfield-Taylor's word-painting of special 
 events the bull-fight for instance is vivid and 
 well colored. He gets at the national character 
 very well indeed, and we feel that we know our 
 Spain better by reason of his handsome little 
 book." Boston Traveler. 
 
 "He writes pleasantly and impartially, and very 
 fairly sums up the Spanish character. * * * Mr. 
 Taylor's book is well illustrated, and is more read 
 able than the reminiscences of the average globe 
 trotter." New Tork Sun.
 
 Chatfield-Taylor, H. C. 
 
 THE VICE OF FOOLS : A Novel of Society 
 Life in Washington. By the author of 
 " The Land of the Castanet," Two 
 Women and a Fool," " An American 
 Peeress" etc. With ten full page pictures 
 by Raymond M. Crosby. l6mo. $1.50. 
 
 The great success of Mr. Chatfield-Taylor's so 
 ciety novels gives assurance of a large sale to this 
 new story. It can hardly be denied that few per 
 sons in this country are better qualified to treat 
 the "smart set" in various American cities, arid 
 the life in diplomatic circles offers an unusually 
 picturesque opportunity. 
 
 D'Annunzio, Gabriele. 
 
 EPISCOPO AND COMPANY. Translated 
 by Myrta Leonora Jones. i6mo. $1.25. 
 
 Third edition. 
 
 Gabriele d'Annunzio is the best known and 
 most gifted of modern Italian novelists. His work 
 is making a great sensation at present in all lite 
 rary circles. The translation now offered gave 
 the first opportunity English-speaking readers 
 had to know him in their own language. 
 
 De Fontenoy, The Marquise. 
 
 EVE'S GLOSSARY. By the author of "Queer 
 Sprigs of Gentility," with decorations in 
 two colors by FRANK HAZENPLUG. fto. 
 
 $3-5. 
 
 8
 
 An amusing volume of gossip and advice for 
 gentlewomen. It treats of health, costume, and 
 entertainments; exemplifies by reference to noted 
 beauties of England and the Continent; and is 
 embellished with decorative borders of great 
 charm. 
 
 Earle, Alice Morse. 
 
 CURIOUS PUNISHMENTS OF BYGONE 
 DAYS, with twelve quaint pictures and a 
 cover design by FRANK. HAZENPLUG. 
 
 $1.50. 
 
 "In this dainty little volume Alice Morse Earle 
 has done a real service, not only to present read 
 ers, but to future students of bygone customs. To 
 come upon all the information that is here put 
 into readable shape, one would be obliged to search 
 through many ancient and cumbrous records." 
 Boston Transcript. 
 
 "Mrs. Alice Morse Earle has made a diverting 
 and edifying book in her ' Curious Punishments 
 of Bygone Days,' which is published in a style of 
 quaintness befitting the theme." New Tork 
 Tribune. 
 
 "This light and entertaining volume is the most 
 recent of Mrs.Earle's popular antiquarian sketches, 
 and will not fail to amuse and mildly instruct 
 readers who love to recall the grim furnishings and 
 habits of previous centuries, without too much 
 serious consideration of the root from which they 
 sprang, the circumstances in which they flour 
 ished, or the uses they served." The Independent.
 
 Embree, Charles Fleming. 
 
 FOR THE LOVE OF TONITA, AND OTHER 
 
 TALES OF THE MESAS. With a cover 
 designed by FERNAND LUNGREN. i6mo. 
 $1.25- 
 
 Characteristic and breezy stories of the South 
 west, by a new author. Full of romantic interest 
 and with an unusually humorous turn. The book 
 coming from a new writer, is likely to be a real 
 surprise. The cover is an entirely new experi 
 ment in bookbinding. 
 
 Fletcher, Horace. 
 
 HAPPINESS AS FOUND IN FORETHOUGHT 
 MINUS FEARTHOUGHT, AND OTHER 
 SUGGESTIONS IN MENTICULTURE. i2mo. 
 $1.00. 
 
 The enormous popularity of Mr. Fletcher's 
 simple philosophy, as shown in the sale of his 
 first volume, " Menticulture " is a sufficient evi 
 dence of the prospects of the new book. In it he 
 develops further the ideas of menticulture and 
 urges with energy and directness his plea for the 
 avoidance of worry. 
 
 Fletcher, Horace. 
 
 MENTICULTURE : or the A-B-C of True 
 Living. I2mo. $1.00. 
 
 Nineteenth thousand. 
 
 Transferred by the author to the present publishers. 
 IO
 
 Gordon, Julien. 
 
 EAT NOT THY HEART : A Novel. By 
 the author of" A Diplomat's Diary," etc. 
 i6mo, $1.25. 
 
 Life on Long Island at a luxurious country 
 place, is the setting for this story, and Mrs. 
 Cruger's dialogue is as crisp, as witty, as satirical 
 of the foibles of fashionable life as ever. She has 
 tried a new experiment, however, in making a 
 study of a humbler type, the farmer's wife, and 
 her ineffectual jealousy of the rich city people. 
 
 Hapgood, Norman. 
 
 LITERARY STATESMEN AND OTHERS. 
 A book of essays on men seen from a distance. 
 I2mo. $1.50. 
 
 Essays from one of our younger writers, who is 
 already well known as a man of promise, and who 
 has been given the unusual distinction of starting 
 his career by unqualified acceptance from the En 
 glish reviews. Scholarly, incisive, and thought 
 ful essays which will be a valuable contribution to 
 contemporary criticism. 
 
 Hichens, Robert. 
 
 FLAMES : A Novel. By the author of " A 
 Green Carnation" " An Imaginative 
 Man," " The Folly of Eustace," etc., with 
 a cover design by F. R. KIMBROUGH. 
 I2mo. $1.50. Second edition .
 
 "The book is sure to be widely read." Buffalo 
 Commercial. 
 
 "It carries on the attention of the reader from 
 the first chapter to the last. Full of exciting in 
 cidents, very modern, excessively up to date." 
 London Daily Telegraph. 
 
 " In his last book Mr. Hichens has entirely 
 proved himself. His talent does not so much lie 
 in the conventional novel, but more in his strange 
 and fantastic medium. ' Flames ' suits him, has 
 him at his best." Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 "'Flames,' " says the London Chronicle, in along 
 editorial on the story, " is a cunning blend of the 
 romantic and the real, the work of a man who can 
 observe, who can think, who can imagine, and who 
 can write." 
 
 '"Flames' is a powerful story, not only for the 
 novelty of its plot, but for the skill with which it 
 is worked out, the brilliancy of its descriptions of 
 the London streets, of the seamy side of the city's 
 life which night turns to the beholder; but the 
 descriptions are neither erotic nor morbid. * * * 
 We may repudiate the central idea of soul-trans 
 ference, but the theory is made the vehicle of 
 this striking tale in a manner that is entirely sane 
 and wholesome. It leaves no bad taste in the 
 mouth. * * * 'Flames' it is the author's 
 fancy that the soul is like a little flame, and hence 
 the. title must be read with care. There is much 
 brilliant epigrammatic writing in it that will 
 delight the literary palate. It is far and away 
 ahead of anything that Mr. Hichens has ever writ 
 ten before." Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 James, Henry. 
 
 WHAT MAISIE KNEW : A novel. I2mo. 
 
 $1-50-
 
 The publication of a new novel one quite un 
 like his previous work by Mr. Henry James, 
 cannot fail to be an event of considerable literary 
 importance. During its appearance in the Chap- 
 Book, the story has been a delight to many read 
 ers. As the first study of child-life which Mr. 
 James has ever attempted, it is worth the attention 
 of all persons interested in English and American 
 letters. 
 
 Kinross, Albert. 
 
 THE FEARSOME ISLAND ; Being a mod 
 ern rendering of the narrative of one 
 Silas Fordred, Master Mariner of Hythe, 
 whose shipwreck and subsequent adventures 
 are herein set forth. Also an appendix, 
 accounting, in a rational manner, for the 
 seeming marvels that Silas Fordred en 
 countered during his sojourn on the fearsome 
 island of Don Diego Rodriguez. With a 
 cover designed by FRANK HAZENPLUG. 
 i6mo. $1.25. 
 
 Le Gallienne, Richard. 
 
 PROSE FANCIES : Second series. By the 
 author of "The Book-Bills of Narcissus," 
 "The Quest of the Golden Girl," etc. 
 With a cover designed by FRANK HAZEN 
 PLUG. l6mo. $1.25. Second edition. 
 
 " In these days of Beardsley pictures and deca 
 dent novels, it is good to find a book as sweet, as 
 
 13
 
 pure, as delicate as Mr. Le Gallienne's." New 
 Orleans Picayune. 
 
 '"Prose Fancies' ought to be in every one's 
 summer library, for it is just the kind of a book 
 one loves to take to some secluded spot to read 
 and dream over." Kansas City Times. 
 
 " There are witty bits of sayings by the score, 
 and sometimes whole paragraphs of nothing but 
 wit. Somewhere there is a little skit about ' Scot 
 land, the country that takes its name from the 
 whisky made there'; and the transposed proverbs, 
 like ' It is an ill wind for the shorn lamb,' and 
 ' Many rise on the stepping-stones of their dead 
 relations,' are brilliant. 'Most of us would never 
 be heard of were it not for our enemies,' is a cap 
 ital epigram." Chicago Times-Herald. 
 
 " Mr. Le Gallienneis first of all a poet, and these 
 little essays, which savor somewhat of Lamb, of 
 Montaigne, of Lang, and of Birrell, are larded 
 with verse of exquisite grace. He rarely ventures 
 into the grotesque, but his fancy follows fair 
 paths; a certain quaintness of expression and the 
 idyllic atmosphere of the book charm one at the 
 beginning and carry one through the nineteen 
 'fancies' that comprise the volume." Chicago 
 Record. 
 
 Magruder, Julia. 
 
 Miss AYR OF VIRGINIA, AND OTHER 
 STORIES. By the author of "The Princess 
 Sonia," " The Violet^ etc. With a 
 cover-design by F. R. KIMBROUGH. i6mo. 
 1.25. 
 
 "By means of original incident and keen por 
 traiture, ' Miss Ayr of Virginia, and Other Stories,' 
 
 14
 
 is made a decidedly readable collection. In the 
 initial tale the character of the young Southern 
 girl is especially well drawn; Miss Magruder's 
 most artistic work, however, is found at the end 
 of the volume, under the title ' Once More.' " The 
 Outlook. 
 
 "The contents of 'Miss Ayr of Virginia' are not 
 less fascinating than the cover. * * * These 
 tales * * * are a delightful diversion for a 
 spare hour. They are dreamy without being can 
 didly realistic, and are absolutely refreshing in 
 the simplicity of the author's style." Boston 
 Herald. 
 
 "Julia Magruder's stories are so good that one 
 feels like reading passages here and there again 
 and again. In the collection, ' Miss Ayr of Vir 
 ginia, and other stories,' she is at her best, and 
 'Miss Ayr of Virginia,' has all the daintiness, the 
 point and pith and charm which the author so 
 well commands. The portraiture of a sweet, un 
 sophisticated, pretty, smart Southern girl is be 
 witching." Minneapolis Times. 
 
 Malet, Lucas. 
 
 THE CARISSIMA : A modern grotesque* 
 By the author of " The Wages of $/," 
 etc. I2mo. $1.50. Second edition. 
 
 *^*This is the first novel which Lucas Malet 
 has written since "The Wages of Sin." 
 
 "The strongest piece of fiction written during 
 the year, barring only the masters, Meredith and 
 Thomas Hardy." Kansas City Star. 
 
 " There are no dull pages in ' The Carissima,' no 
 perfunctory people. Every character that goes in 
 and out on the mimic stage is fully rounded, and 
 the central one provokes curiosity, like those of
 
 that Sphinx among novelists, Mr. Henry James. 
 Lucas Malet has caught the very trick of James's 
 manner, and the likeness presses more than 
 once." Milwaukee Sentinel. 
 
 "The interest throughout the story is intense 
 and perfectly sustained. The character-drawing 
 is as good as it can be. The Carissima, her father, 
 and a journalistic admirer are, in particular, abso 
 lute triumphs. The book is wonderfully witty, 
 and has touches of genuine pathos, more than two 
 and more than three. It is much better than any 
 thing else we have seen from the same hand." 
 Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 "Lucas Malet has insight, strength, the gift of 
 satire, and a captivating brilliance of touch; in 
 short, a literary equipment such as not too many 
 present-day novelists are possessed of." London 
 Daily Mail. 
 
 "We cannot think of readers as skipping a line 
 or failing to admire the workmanship, or to be 
 deeply interested, both in the characters and the 
 plot. ' Carissima ' is likely to add to the reputa 
 tion of the author of ' The Wages of Sin.'" Glas 
 gow Herald. 
 
 Merrick, Leonard. 
 
 ONE MAN'S VIEW. By the author of 
 "A Daughter of the Philistines" etc. 
 l6mo. $1.00. 
 
 The story of an ambitious American girl and 
 her attempts to get on the English stage, her mar 
 riage and subsequent troubles, and the final hap 
 piness of every one. The author's point of view 
 and the story itself are unusual and interesting. 
 
 "Very well told." The Outlook. 
 16
 
 "Clever and original." Charleston Ne-ws and 
 Courier. 
 
 " Eminently readable." New Orleans Timts- 
 Democrat. 
 
 " A highly emotional, sensational story of much 
 literary merit." Chicago Inter Ocean, 
 
 " A novel over which we could fancy ourselves 
 sitting up till the small hours." London Daily 
 Chronicle. 
 
 " A really remarkable piece of fiction * * * 
 a saving defense against dullness that may come 
 in vacation times." Kansas City Star. 
 
 Moore, F. Frankfort. 
 
 THE IMPUDENT COMEDIAN AND 
 OTHERS. Illustrated. I2mo. $1.50. 
 
 "Several of the stories have appeared in the 
 Chap-Book; others are now published for the first 
 time. They all relate to seventeenth and eigh 
 teenth century characters Nell Gwynn, Kitty 
 Clive, Oliver Goldsmith, Dr. Johnson, and David 
 Garrick. They are bright, witty, and dramatic. 
 
 " Capital short stories." Brooklyn Eagle, 
 
 " A thing of joy." Buffalo Express. 
 
 "The person who has a proper eye to the artis 
 tic in fiction will possess them ere another day shall 
 dawn." Scranton Tribune. 
 
 "Full of the mannerisms of the stage and thor 
 oughly Bohemian in atmosphere." Boston Herald. 
 
 "The celebrated actresses whom he takes for 
 his heroines sparkle with feminine liveliness of 
 mind." New Tork Tribune. 
 
 " A collection of short stories which has a flash 
 of the picturesqueness, the repartee, the dazzle of 
 
 17
 
 the age of Garrick and Goldsmith, of Peg Wof- 
 fington and Kitty Olive." Hartford Courant. 
 
 "The stories are well conceived and amusing, 
 bearing upon every page the impress of an inti 
 mate study of the fascinating period wherein they 
 are laid." The Dial. 
 
 "Mr. 'F. Frankfort Moore had a capital idea 
 when he undertook to throw into story form some 
 of the traditional incidents of the history of the 
 stage in its earlier English days. Nell Gwynn, 
 Kitty Clive, Mrs. Siddons, Mrs. Abington, and 
 others are cleverly depicted, with much of the 
 swagger and flavor of their times." The Outlook. 
 
 Moore, F. Frankfort. 
 
 THE JESSAMY BRIDE : A Novel. By 
 the author of" The Impudent Comedian.'" 
 I2mo. $1.50. 
 
 A novel of great interest, introducing as its 
 chief characters Goldsmith, Johnson, Garrick, 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds, and others. It is really a 
 companion volume to "The Impudent Comedian." 
 The first large English edition of "The Jessamy 
 Bride " was exhausted before publication. The 
 great popularity of his other books is sufficient 
 guaranty of the entertaining qualities of this latest 
 volume. 
 
 "Admirably done." Detroit Free Press. 
 
 " It is doubtful if anything he has written will 
 be as well and as widely appreciated as 'The 
 Jessamy Bride.' " Kansas City Times. 
 
 "This story seems to me the strongest and sin- 
 cerest bit of fiction I have read since "Quo 
 Vadis." George Merriam Hyde in The Book 
 Buyer. 
 
 18
 
 "A novel in praise of the most lovable of men 
 of letters, not even excepting Charles Lamb, must 
 be welcome, though in it the romance of Gold 
 smith's life may be made a little too much of for 
 strict truth * * * Mr. Moore has the history 
 of the time and of the special circle at his finger- 
 ends. He has lived in its atmosphere, and his 
 transcripts are full of vivacity. * * * 'The 
 Jessamy Bride ' is a very good story, and Mr. 
 Moore has never written anything else so chival 
 rous to man or woman." The Bookman. 
 
 Morrison, Arthur. 
 
 A CHILD OF THE JAGO. By the author 
 
 of " Tales of Mean Streets ." I2mo. 
 
 $1.50. Second edition. 
 
 " The book is a masterpiece." Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 "The unerring touch of a great artist." London 
 
 Daily Graphic. 
 
 " Told with great vigour and powerful simplic 
 ity." Athenaeum. 
 
 " Remarkable power, and even more remarka 
 ble restraint." London Daily Mail. 
 
 " A novel that will rank alone as a picture of 
 low-class London life." Ne~w Saturday. 
 
 "The power and art of the book are beyond 
 question." Hartford Courant. 
 
 " It is one of the most notable books of the 
 year." Chicago Daily News. 
 
 '"A Child of the Jago'will prove one of the 
 immediate and great successes of the season." 
 Boston Times. 
 
 "The description of the great fight between 
 Josh Perrott and Billy Leary is a masterpiece." 
 Punch. 
 
 19
 
 "Never, certainly, a book with such a scene on 
 which so much artistic care has been lavished. 
 * * The reader has no choice but to be con 
 vinced." Review of Reviews. 
 
 " Mr. ArthurMorrison has already distinguished 
 himself (in his Tales of Mean Streets') as a deline 
 ator of the lives of the East -end poor, but his 
 present book takes a deeper hold on us." London 
 Times. 
 
 "Is indeed indisputably one of the most inter 
 esting novels this year has produced. * * One 
 of those rare and satisfactory novels in which 
 almost every sentence has its share in the entire 
 design." Saturday Review. 
 
 " Since Daniel Defoe, no such consummate 
 master of realistic fiction has arisen among us as 
 Mr. Arthur Morrison. Hardly any praise could 
 be too much for .the imaginative power and artis 
 tic perfection and beauty of this picture of the de 
 praved and loathsome phases of human life. 
 There is all of Defoe's fidelity of realistic detail, 
 suffused with the light and warmth of a genius 
 higher and purer than Defoe's." Scotsman. 
 
 "It more than fulfills the promise of 'Tales of 
 Mean Streets' it makes you confident that Mr. 
 Morrison has yet better work to do. The power 
 displayed is magnificent, and the episode of the 
 murder of Weech, ' fence ' and ' nark,' and of the 
 capture and trial of his murderer, is one that 
 stamps itself upon the memory as a thing done 
 once and for all. Perrott in the dock, or as he 
 awaits the executioner, is a fit companion of Fagin 
 condemned. The book cannot but confirm the 
 admirers of Mr. Morrison's remarkable talent in 
 the opinions they formed on reading ' Tales of 
 Mean Streets.' " Black and White.
 
 Powell, Richard Stillman. 
 (See Bickford, L. H.) 
 
 Pritchard, Martin J. 
 
 WITHOUT SIN: A novel. I2mo. $1.50. 
 
 Third edition. 
 
 *a*The New York Journal gave a half-page 
 review of the book and proclaimed it " the most 
 startling novel jet." 
 
 "Abounds in situations of thrilling interest. A 
 unique and daring book." Review of Reviews 
 (London). 
 
 "One is hardly likely to go far wrong in pre 
 dicting that ' Without Sin' will attract abundant 
 notice. Too much can scarcely be said in praise 
 of Mr. Pritchard's treatment of his subject." 
 Academy. 
 
 "The very ingenious way in which improbable 
 incidents are made to appear natural, the ingenious 
 manner in which the story is sustained to the end, 
 the undoubted fascination of the writing and the 
 convincing charm of the principal characters, are 
 just what make this novel so deeply dangerous 
 while so intensely interesting." Tfie World 
 (London). 
 
 Pool, Maria Louise. 
 
 IN BUNCOMBE COUNTY. i6mo. $1.25. 
 
 Second edition. 
 
 " ' In Buncombe County ' is bubbling over with 
 merriment one could not be blue with such a 
 companion for an hour." Bnsfon Times.
 
 " Maria Louise Pool is a joy forever, principally 
 because she so nobly disproves the lurking theory 
 that women are born destitute of humor. Hers is 
 not acquired; it is the real thing. 'In Buncombe 
 County ' is perfect with its quiet appreciation of 
 the humorous side of the everyday affairs of life." 
 Chicago Daily News. 
 
 "It is brimming over with humor, and the 
 reader who can follow the fortunes of the redbird 
 alone, who flutters through the first few chapters, 
 and not be moved to long laughter, must be sadly 
 insensitive. But laugh as he may, he will always 
 revert to the graver vein which unobtrusively 
 runs from the first to the last page in the book. 
 He will lay down the narrative of almost gro 
 tesque adventure with a keen remembrance of its 
 tenderness and pathos." New Tork Tribune. 
 
 Raimond, C. E. 
 
 THE FATAL GIFT OF BEAUTY, AND 
 OTHER STORIES. By the Author of 
 " George Mandeville s Husband" etc. 
 i6mo. $1.25. 
 
 A book of stories which will not quickly be sur 
 passed for real humor, skillful characterization 
 and splendid entertainment. "The Confessions 
 of a Cruel Mistress " is a masterpiece, and the 
 " Portman Memoirs" exceptionally clever. 
 
 Rossetti, Christina. 
 
 MAUDE : Prose and Verse. With a pref 
 ace by William Michael Rossetti. l6mo. 
 &X.OO.
 
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