st."

He told me all three balls had been duly entered: and commented upon.

"And, of course, you remember my performance of Talbot Champneys in _Our
Boys_ the week before last, in aid of the Fund for Poor Curates," I went
on. "I don't know whether you saw the notice in the _Morning Post_,
but--"

He again interrupted me to remark that what the _Morning Post_ man said
would be entered, one way or the other, to the critic of the _Morning
Post_, and had nothing to do with me. "Of course not," I agreed; "and
between ourselves, I don't think the charity got very much. Expenses,
when you come to add refreshments and one thing and another, mount up.
But I fancy they rather liked my Talbot Champneys."

He replied that he had been present at the performance, and had made his
own report.

I also reminded him of the four balcony seats I had taken for the monster
show at His Majesty's in aid of the Fund for the Destitute British in
Johannesburg. Not all the celebrated actors and actresses announced on
the posters had appeared, but all had sent letters full of kindly wishes;
and the others--all the celebrities one had never heard of--had turned up
to a man. Still, on the whole, the show was well worth the money. There
was nothing to grumble at.

There were other noble deeds of mine. I could not remember them at the
time in their entirety. I seemed to have done a good many. But I did
remember the rummage sale to which I sent all my old clothes, including a
coat that had got mixed up with them by accident, and that I believe I
could have worn again.

And also the raffle I had joined for a motor-car.

The Angel said I really need not be alarmed, that everything had been
noted, together with other matters I, may be, had forgotten.

The Angel appears to have made a slight Mistake.

I felt a certain curiosity. We had been getting on very well together--so
it had seemed to me. I asked him if he would mind my seeing the book. He
said there could be no objection. He opened it at the page devoted to
myself, and I flew a little higher, and looked down over his shoulder. I
can hardly believe it, even now--that I could have dreamt anything so
foolish:

He had got it all down wrong!

Instead of to the credit side of my account he had put the whole bag of
tricks to my debit. He had mixed them up with my sins--with my acts of
hypocrisy, vanity, self-indulgence. Under the head of Charity he had but
one item to m