Errol, too, is more than once seen by his host wandering in the grounds at night, with a cigar between his teeth.
Strathmore thinks his susceptible friend has a love affair on hand; but is it not at least as probable an explanation that Errol had a private supply of cigars at Whiteladies, and from motives of delicacy did not like to smoke them in his host's presence?
Once, indeed, we do see Strathmore smoking a good cigar, though we are not told how he came by it.

When talking of the Vavasour, he "sticks his penknife through his Cabana," with the object, obviously, of smoking it to the bitter end.
Another lady novelist, who is also an authority on tobacco, Miss Rhoda Broughton, contemptuously dismisses a claimant for the heroship of one of her stories, as the kind of man who turns up his trousers at the foot.

It would have been just as withering to say that he stuck a penknife through his cigars.
[Illustration] There is another true hero with me, whose creator has unintentionally misrepresented him.

It is he of "Comin' thro' the Rye," a gentleman whom the maidens of the nineteenth century will not willingly let die.

He is grand, no doubt; and yet, the more one thinks about him, the plainer it becomes that had the heroine married him she would have been bitterly disenchanted.