They said Kelso got some rascally adventurer, some Belgian brute, to insult his son-in-law in public--paid him, sir, to do it, paid him--and that the fellow spitted his man as if he had been a pigeon.

The thing was hushed up, but, egad, Kelso ate his chop alone at the club for some time afterwards.

He brought his daughter back with him, I was told, and she never spoke to him again.

Oh, yes; it was a bad business.

The girl died, too, died within a year.