r
dined with her except on the same terms.

Therefore it came about that Lady Durwent's dinners were among the
pleasantest things in town, and, true to her character of the
_unusual_, she always worded her invitations with a nice discrimination
dictated by the exact motive that prompted the sending.

II.

H. Stackton Dunckley looked up from his pillow as the man-servant who
valeted for the gentlemen of the Jermyn Street Chambers drew aside a
gray curtain and displayed the gray blanket of the atmosphere outside.

'Good-morning, Watson,' said Mr. Dunckley in a voice which gave the
impression that he had smoked too many cigars the previous evening--an
impression considerably strengthened by the bilious appearance of his
face.

'Good-morning, sir. Will you have the _Times_ or the _Morning Post_?
And here are your letters, sir.'

The recumbent gentleman took the letters and waved them philosophically
at the valet. 'Leave me to my thoughts,' he said thickly, but with
considerable dignity. 'I am not interested in the squeaky jarring of
the world revolving on its rusty axis.'

Being an author, he almost invariably tried out his command of language
in the morning, as a tenor essays two or three notes on rising, to make
sure that his voice has not left him during his slumber.

Mr. Watson bowed and withdrew. H. Stackton Dunckley lit a cigarette,
opened the first letter, and read it.

'8 CHELMSFORD GARDENS.

'MY DEAR STACKY,--Next Friday I am giving a little dinner-party--just a
few _unusual_ people--to meet an American author who has recently come
to England. Do come; but, you brilliant man, don't be too caustic,
will you?

'Isn't it dreadful the way gossip is connecting our names? Supposing
Lord Durwent should hear about it!--Until Friday,

'SYBIL DURWENT.

'P.S.--How is _the_ play coming on? Dinner will be at 8.30.'

H. Stackton Dunckley put the letter down and sighed. He was an author
who had been writing other men's ideas all his life, but without
sufficient distinction to achieve either a success or a failure. He
had gained some notoriety by his wife suing him for divorce; but when
the Court granted her separation on the ground of desertion, it cleared
him of the charge of infidelity--and of the chance of advertisement at
the same moment. Later, by being a constant attendant on Lady Durwent,
he almost succeeded in creating a scandal; but, to the great
disappointment of them both, London flat