ivalent of the
Tsar of All the Russias. Such women are only made in America, and they
only come to their full bloom in Europe, which they imagine to be a
continent created by Providence for their diversion.

The young lady by the window glanced disapprovingly at the menu card.
Then she looked round the dining-room, and, while admiring the diners,
decided that the room itself was rather small and plain. Then she gazed
through the open window, and told herself that though the Thames by
twilight was passable enough, it was by no means level with the Hudson,
on whose shores her father had a hundred thousand dollar country
cottage. Then she returned to the menu, and with a pursing of lovely
lips said that there appeared to be nothing to eat.

'Sorry to keep you waiting, Nella.' It was Mr Racksole, the intrepid
millionaire who had dared to order an Angel Kiss in the smoke-room
of the Grand Babylon. Nella--her proper name was Helen--smiled at her
parent cautiously, reserving to herself the right to scold if she should
feel so inclined.

'You always are late, father,' she said.

'Only on a holiday,' he added. 'What is there to eat?'

'Nothing.'

'Then let's have it. I'm hungry. I'm never so hungry as when I'm being
seriously idle.'

'Consomme Britannia,' she began to read out from the menu, 'Saumon
d'Ecosse, Sauce Genoise, Aspics de Homard. Oh, heavens! Who wants these
horrid messes on a night like this?'

'But, Nella, this is the best cooking in Europe,' he protested.

'Say, father,' she said, with seeming irrelevance, 'had you forgotten
it's my birthday to-morrow?'

'Have I ever forgotten your birthday, O most costly daughter?'

'On the whole you've been a most satisfactory dad,' she answered
sweetly, 'and to reward you I'll be content this year with the cheapest
birthday treat you ever gave me. Only I'll have it to-night.'

'Well,' he said, with the long-suffering patience, the readiness for any
surprise, of a parent whom Nella had thoroughly trained, 'what is it?'

'It's this. Let's have filleted steak and a bottle of Bass for dinner
to-night. It will be simply exquisite. I shall love it.'

'But my dear Nella,' he exclaimed, 'steak and beer at Felix 's! It's
impossible! Moreover, young women still under twenty-three cannot be
permitted to drink Bass.'

'I said steak and Bass, and as for being twenty-three, shall be going in
twenty-four to-morrow.'

Miss Racksole set her small white teeth.

There was a