"That wound (supposed to be mortal at the time) was made by a pistol bullet," he proceeded.

"Not received in the service of my country--oh dear, no! Received in the service of a much-injured lady, at the hands of her scoundrel of a husband, in a duel abroad.

Well, she was worth it." He kissed his hand affectionately to the memory of the dead or absent lady, and pointed to a water-color drawing of a pretty country-house hanging on the opposite wall.

"That fine estate," he proceeded, "once belonged to me.

It was sold years and years since.