s not interested in parties," Mr. Hearty had explained feebly.

"We can't leave Joe out," panted Mrs. Hearty with a decisiveness
unusual to her. "Why, he'll be the life and soul of the evening."

This was exactly what Mr. Hearty feared; but seeing that his women-folk
were united against him, and after a further feeble protest, he
conceded the point, and the Bindles received their invitation. Mr.
Hearty had, however, taken the precaution of "dropping a hint" to Mrs.
Bindle, the "hint" in actual words being: "I hope that if Joseph comes
he--he won't----"

"I'll see that he doesn't," was Mrs. Bindle's reply, uttered with a
snap of the jaws that had seemed to reassure her brother-in-law.

II

Mrs. Bindle was engaged in removing curl-papers from her front hair.
On the bed lay her best dress of black alpaca with a bright green satin
yoke covered with black lace. Beside it lay her best bonnet, also of
black, an affair of a very narrow gauge and built high up at the back,
having the appearance of being several sizes too small for its wearer.

Mrs. Bindle was dressing with great care and deliberation for Mr.
Hearty's party. Her conception of dress embodied the middle-class
ideals of mid-Victorian neatness, blended with a standard of modesty
and correctness peculiarly her own.

It had cost Mrs. Bindle many anxious days of thought before she had
been able to justify to herself the green satin yoke in her best dress.
With her, to be fashionable was to be fast. A short skirt and a
pneumonia-blouse were in her eyes the contrivances of the devil to show
what no modest woman would think of exhibiting to the public gaze.

As she proceeded with her toilette Mrs. Bindle was thinking of the
shamelessness of women who bared their arms and shoulders to every
man's gaze. On principle she disapproved of parties and festivities of
any description that were not more or less concerned with the chapel;
but to her Mr. Hearty could do no wrong, and the fact that their pastor
was to be present removed from her mind any scruples that she might
otherwise have felt.

She was slowly brushing her thin sandy hair when Bindle entered the
bedroom in full evening-dress, the large imitation diamond stud in the
centre of his shirt, patent boots, a red silk handkerchief stuck in the
opening of his waistcoat, the light coat over his arm, and an opera hat
stuck at a rakish angle on his head. Between his lips was a cigar, one
of the last remainin