and of course I should be very glad if he will state his opinions on the climate, customs, and governments of the countries through which he has passed.  It’s a great pity this is not his own house,—­it is a pretty place and a description of it would read well.  Let me see!”—­and she meditated,—­” I think I could manage to insert a few lines about this apartment, . . it would be easy to say ’the picturesque library in the house of the Honble.  Francis Villiers, where Mr. Alwyn received me,’ etc.,—­ Yes! that would do very well!—­very well indeed!  I should like to know whether he has a residence of his own anywhere, and if not, whether he intends to take one in London, because in the latter case it would be as well to ascertain by whom he intends to have it furnished.  A little discussion on upholstery is so specially fascinating to my readers!  Then, naturally, I am desirous to learn how the erroneous rumor of his death was first started, . . whether in the course of his travels he met with some serious accident, or illness, which gave rise to the report.  Now,”—­and she shut her note-book and folded her hands,—­“I don’t mind waiting an hour or more if necessary,—­but I am sure if you will tell Mr. Alwyn who I am, and what I have come for, he will be only too delighted to see me with as little delay as possible.”

She ceased.  Villiers drew a long breath,—­his compressed lips parted in a slightly sarcastic smile.  Squaring his shoulders with that peculiar pugnacious gesture of his which always indicated to those who knew him well that his mind was made up, and that nothing would induce him to alter it, he said in a tone of stiff civility: 

“I am sorry, madam, . . very sorry! ... but I am compelled to inform you that your visit here is entirely useless!  Were I to tell my friend of the purpose you have in view concerning him, he would not feel so much flattered as you seem to imagine, but rather insulted!  Excuse my frankness,—­you have spoken plainly,—­I must speak plainly too.  Provision dealers and sensational story writers may find that it serves their purpose to be interviewed, if only as a means of gaining extra advertisement, but a truly great and conscientious author like Theos Alwyn is quite above all that sort of thing.”

The lady raised her pale eyebrows with an expression of interrogative scorn.

“Above all that sort of thing!” she echoed incredulously—­“Dear me!  How very extraordinary!  I have always found all our celebrities so exceedingly pleased to be given a little additional notoriety! ... and I should have thought a poet,” this with much depreciative emphasis—­“would have been particularly glad of the chance!  Because, of course you know that unless a very astonishing success is made, as in the case of Mr. Alwyn’s ‘Nourhalma,’ people really take such slight interest in writers of verse, that it is hardly ever worth while interviewing them!”

“Precisely!” agreed Villiers ironically,—­“The private history of a prize-fighter would naturally be much more thrilling!” He paused,—­his temper was fast rising, but, quickly reflecting that, after all, the indignation he felt was not so much against his visitor as against the system she represented, he resumed quietly, “May I ask you, madam, whether you have ever ‘interviewed’ Her Majesty the Queen?”