ble-looking of the beasts and had them dusted and made as tidy as
was possible at short notice, and set out for the Nineveh mansion. You
may imagine the sensation that her small but imposing caravan created
when she arrived at the hall door. The entire garden-party flocked up to
gape. My sister was rather glad to slip down from her camel, and the
groom was thankful to scramble down from his. Then young Billy Doulton,
of the Dragoon Guards, who has been a lot at Aden and thinks he knows
camel-language backwards, thought he would show off by making the beasts
kneel down in orthodox fashion. Unfortunately camel words-of-command are
not the same all the world over; these were magnificent Turkestan camels,
accustomed to stride up the stony terraces of mountain passes, and when
Doulton shouted at them they went side by side up the front steps, into
the entrance hall, and up the grand staircase. The German governess met
them just at the turn of the corridor. The Ninevehs nursed her with
devoted attention for weeks, and when I last heard from them she was well
enough to go about her duties again, but the doctor says she will always
suffer from Hagenbeck heart."

Amblecope got up from his chair and moved to another part of the room.
Treddleford reopened his book and betook himself once more across

The dragon-green, the luminous, the dark, the serpent-haunted sea.

For a blessed half-hour he disported himself in imagination by the "gay
Aleppo-Gate," and listened to the bird-voiced singing-man. Then the
world of to-day called him back; a page summoned him to speak with a
friend on the telephone.

As Treddleford was about to pass out of the room he encountered
Amblecope, also passing out, on his way to the billiard-room, where,
perchance, some luckless wight might be secured and held fast to listen
to the number of his attendances at the Grand Prix, with subsequent
remarks on Newmarket and the Cambridgeshire. Amblecope made as if to
pass out first, but a new-born pride was surging in Treddleford's breast
and he waved him back.

"I believe I take precedence," he said coldly; "you are merely the club
Bore; I am the club Liar."

THE ELK

Teresa, Mrs. Thropplestance, was the richest and most intractable old
woman in the county of Woldshire. In her dealings with the world in
general her manner suggested a blend between a Mistress of the Robes and
a Master of Foxhounds, with the vocabulary of both. In her do