ves. They mentioned
that if the size was not correct the gloves could be changed, and at
once took seats in the corner of the room, whence they surveyed the
company with a critical air, sighing in unison, as though regretting
deeply their mad impulsiveness in accepting the invitation. On this,
other presents were offered; Bulpert said his memento would come later
on. One of his friends sat on the music-stool, and Sarah, the
charwoman's daughter, entering at the first chord with a tray that held
sandwiches and cakes, said to him casually, "Hullo, George, you on in
this scene?" and handed around the refreshments. Bulpert's friend,
disturbed by the incident, waited until the girl left the room, and
then explained that he had met her in pantomime, the previous
Christmas, at the West London Theatre; he argued forcibly that people
encountered behind the footlights had no right to claim acquaintance
outside. "Otherwise," contended Bulpert's friend, "we're none of us
safe." He was induced to give his song, and the first lines,--

"I went to Margate, once I did, to spend my holidee,
Such funny things you seem to see beside the silver sea"

suggested that he was not one disposed to worship originality or make a
fetish of invention. Bulpert, at the end, pointed out that his friend
had omitted the last verse; the man at the pianoforte said there were
some places where he was in the habit of giving the last verse; this,
he declared flatteringly, was not one of them. Gertie's aunt came
upstairs to announce that, the occasion being special, she had taken it
upon herself to put up the shutters. If they excused her for half a
second this would give her sufficient space to tittivate and smarten up.

"Say when you want me to liven 'em up, Gertie," remarked Bulpert.

"Go and be nice to those two sisters in the corner."

"When we're married," he said, "we'll often give little affairs of this
kind. I'm a great believer in hospitality myself."

As he did not appear to make a great deal of headway with the
Westbourne Grove ladies, he was recalled and the task handed over to
Clarence Mills. Clarence scored an immediate success. The sisters, it
seemed, prided themselves upon being tremendous readers; Clarence was
acquainted with some of the writers who, to them, were only names. And
the young hostess would have been able to survey the room with
contentment, but for the fact that Miss Radford suddenly became
depressed--with