Evening star., 1914-04-26

than expose: he prevents. He is the war
wick of modern times; he makes and un-
makes Kings, sceptral and financial.
This particular reporter sent his card up
to Thornden, and was, after half an hours
delay, admitted to the suite. Thornden
laid aside his teacup.
Il am a newspaper man, Mr.. Thornden,'
said the young man, his eyes rowing about
the room, visualizing everything, from the
slices of lemon to the brilliant eyes of the
valet.
@Ah. a pressman What will you be want
ing to see me about, Sir?" neither hostile nor
friendly.
"Do you intend to remain long in America
-incog?"
aIncog' Thornden leaned forward in
his chair and drew down his eyebrow tightly
against the rim of his monocle.
"Yes, Sir. | take it that you are Sir Henry
Monckton, ninth Baron of Dinb1edonn
Master and man exchanged rapid glance.
"Tibbets," said the master coldly, "you
registered"
"Yes, Sir
what did you register?"
@Oh," interposed the reporter, at was the
name Dimbledon caught my eye, Sir. You
see, there was paragraph in one of our Lon
don exchanges that you had sailed for Amer
lea. I'm what we call hotel reporter
hunt up prominent and interesting people
for interviews. I'm sure yours is a very in
teresting story, Sir The reporter was a
pleasant, affable young man, and that was
why he was so particularly efficient in his
line of work.
Il was not prepared to disclose my iden-
tity so soon,' said Sir Henry ruefully; "but
since you have stumbled upon the truth, it
is far better that give you the facts as they
are. interviewing is a novel experience.
IN hot Il j,
AND thus it was that next morning New
York-and the Continent as we'll
learned that Sir Henry Monckton, ninth
Baron of Dimbledon, had arrived in America
on pleasure trip. The story read more like
the scenario of romantic novel than page
from life For years the eighth Baron of
Dimbledon had lived in seclusion, practi-
cally forgotten. In India he had a bachelor
brother, a son, and grandson. On the day
he was notified of the death by bubonic
plague of these three male members of his
family the Baron himself collapsed, and
died shortly after. The title and estate
went to another branch of the family. A
hundred years before daughter of the
house had run away with the head gardener
and been disowned. The great-great-g grand
son of this woman became the ninth Baron.
The present Baron's life was recounted in
full-and an adventurous life it had been. if
the reporter was to be relied upon. The IN
terview appeared in one of the1eading London
journals, with the single comment, "How
those American reporters do misrepresent
things!'
1t made capital reading, however; and in
servants hall the newspaper became very
popular. 1t gave rise to a satirical leader on
the editorial page: 4Whats the matter with
us republicans? Liberty, fraternity, and
equality,-we faunt that flag as much as
we ever did. Yet, what howdydo when
title comes along! What a craning of necks,
what kotowing! How many earldoms
and dukedoms are not based upon some de-
testable action, some despicabe service rem
dered some orgiastic sovereign! The most
honorable thing about the so-called nobility
is generally the box hedge that surrounds the
manse. Kotow; pour our millions into the
bottomless purses of spendthrifts; give
them our most beautiful women! There is
no remedy for human nature!'
1t was this editorial that interested Kill
grew far more than the story that had
given birth to it. 3That's the way to shoutl'
"Does it do any good?" asked Kitty. 3If
we had Lord for breakfast,-I mean, at
breakfast, would you feel at ease? Wouldn't
you be watching and wondering what it was