fted youth; but the results were
satisfactory, and by pressing the folded pieces of paper very hard
against his forehead, he was able to announce the names written within.

"This is yours, I think, Miss Higham. Now, I don't guarantee success,
mind you, in every case, but--the name, I think, is Henry"--he
contorted his features--"Henry Douglass. Is that right, may I ask?"

"Quite correct!" replied Gertie.

"What did you want to write his name for?" demanded Bulpert, seated
next to her.

"It was the first that came into my head."

"Kindly keep it out of your head in future," he ordered, "or else
there'll be ructions."

Did the ladies object to smoke? asked some one. The ladies answered,
separately and collectively, that they adored smoke; the Westbourne
Grove young women, now in excellent fettle, admitted that, at times,
they themselves enjoyed a cigarette, but could not be persuaded to give
a public exhibition of their powers. They did, however, agree to give
a short sketch entitled "Who is Who?" and the hearthrug was given up to
them; and if they had not made so many corrections--neither appeared to
be well acquainted with her own part in the piece, but each was letter
perfect in the part of the other--the duologue would have been a great
success.

"And now," said Mrs. Mills, "let's see about refreshments. Mr. Trew,
where's that corkscrew of yours?"

"Isn't it about time I was asked to do something?" demanded Bulpert,
with an injured air.

"Let us see you do your celebrated trick," suggested Gertie's aunt,
with irony, "of eating nearly everything there is on the table. That's
what you're really clever at."

Miss Radford, by a sudden inspiration, suggested the ladies should wait
upon the gentlemen, and herself took a plate to Bulpert's conjuring
friend; the example was imitated. Mr. Trew, attended to by Gertie,
declared it a real treat to see her looking like his own little friend
once again.

"Makes me think," he said, "that if there wasn't quite so much
diplomacy about on the part of those of us who reckon we know
everything, you young uns would get a far better chance. Speaking as
one who's been a fusser all my life, that's my candid opinion."

"If you interfered, Mr. Trew, you would interfere wisely."

He emptied his glass in one drink, and set it upon the mantelpiece. "I
wouldn't kiss the book on that, if I was you," he replied. "But what
you can be very well certain about is that if I saw