nt, and could
stand the interview no longer. Dick, however, made no attempt to move;
he remained there, choking and shaking with laughter, while his father
sat stiffly on his chair, trying to ignore his son's unmannerly conduct,
but only partially succeeding.

No one can calmly endure watching other people laughing at him like
idiots, while he is left perfectly incapable of guessing what he has
said or done to amuse them. Even when this is known, it requires a
peculiarly keen sense of humour to see the point of a joke against
oneself.

At last his patience gave out, and he said coldly, "Now, perhaps, if you
are quite yourself again, you will be good enough to let me know what
the joke is?"

Dick, looking flushed and half-ashamed, tried again and again to speak,
but each time the attempt was too much for him. After a time he did
succeed, but his voice was hoarse and shaken with laughter as he spoke.
"Haven't you found it out yet? Go and look at yourself in the glass--it
will make you roar!"

There was the usual narrow sheet of plate glass at the back of the
sideboard, and to this Mr. Bultitude walked, almost under protest, and
with a cold dignity. It occurred to him that he might have a smudge on
his face or something wrong with his collar and tie--something to
account to some extent for his son's frivolous and insulting behaviour.
No suspicion of the terrible truth crossed his mind as yet.

Meanwhile Dick was looking on eagerly with a chuckle of anticipation, as
one who watches the dawning appreciation of an excellent joke.

But no sooner had Paul met the reflection in the glass than he started
back in incredulous horror--then returned and stared again and again.

Surely, surely, this could not be he!

He had expected to see his own familiar portly bow-windowed presence
there--but somehow, look as he would, the mirror insisted upon
reflecting the figure of his son Dick. Could he possibly have become
invisible and have lost the power of casting a reflection--or how was it
that Dick, and only Dick, was to be seen there?

How was it, too, when he looked round, there was the boy still sitting
there? It could not be Dick, evidently, that he saw in the glass.
Besides, the reflection opposite him moved when he moved, returned when
he returned, copied his every gesture!

He turned round upon his son with angry and yet hopeful suspicion. "You,
you've been playing some of your infernal tricks with this mirror, sir,"