he shouted an order to a gardener working near. He
was effusive over the introduction to Gertie, showing his perfect
teeth, and expressing the hope that she would not have to leave on
Monday. The gardener brought a tumbler on a tray, and a syphon.

"At this time of the day?" said Mrs. Douglass, glancing at the contents
of the glass.

"Good whisky," retorted Jim Langham, taking a small quantity of soda,
"makes one feel like another man altogether."

"In that case," said the old lady, "by all means have the drink. My
dear," to Gertie, "give me my stick and we'll walk up to the house and
have tea."

"I'll come with you," remarked Jim Langham.

"You will stay where you are," ordered Mrs. Douglass.

Gertie, at Great Titchfield Street, had invented a house, doubled it,
and multiplied it by ten; it came as a surprise to her to find that the
residence was a solid building of fair extent with a parapet wall of
stone in front, broad steps leading to the open doors. On the lawn tea
was being set out by a man-servant; he lighted the wick underneath a
silver kettle. Lady Douglass, in black, made an effective entrance
down the steps in the company of a dog that looked like a rat.

"How perfectly charming of you to come and see us," she cried,
extending a limp hand. "We do so want some one to brighten us up.
Darling," to old Mrs. Douglass, "why didn't you tell them to send the
bath-chair for you?"

"Myra," retorted the other, "I walk ten times as much as you do."

"Pray take care of yourself, for my sake."

"I hope to find some better incentive than that," said the old lady.

Lady Douglass approached the task of pouring out tea with the hopeless
air of one who scarcely hoped to escape error, and when she had asked
for and obtained particulars concerning tastes, Clarence Mills came,
and his presence seemed to upset all the table plans; Mrs. Douglass
arrested her action as she started to pour tea into the sugar basin.
The arrival of Miss Loriner enabled her to resign the position. Going
across to sit beside Gertie, she gave a highly interesting account of
the way in which she had by sheer force of will conquered the cigarette
habit; at present she consumed but twenty a day, unless, of course,
special circumstances provided an excuse.

"Not for me, thanks," said Gertie, shaking her head. "I can't smoke;
and if I could, I shouldn't."

"Tell me!" begged Lady Douglass; "how is that eccentric old gentleman
we met at