Miss Sellars; "it'll just show you. Uncle
Joseph--that was father's uncle, you understand?"

I assured Miss Sellars that the point was fixed in my mind.

"Well, one day when he came to see us he takes a cocoanut out of his
pocket and offers it to me. 'Thank you,' I says; 'I don't heat cocoanuts
that have been shied at by just anybody and missed!' It made him so
wild. After that," explained Miss Sellars, "they used to call me at home
the Princess of Wales."

I murmured it was a pretty fancy.

"Some people," replied Miss Sellars, with a giggle, "says it fits me;
but, of course, that's only their nonsense."

Not knowing what to reply, I remained silent, which appeared to somewhat
disappoint Miss Sellars.

Out of the Clapham Road we turned into a by-street of two-storeyed
houses.

"You'll come in and have a bit of supper?" suggested Miss Sellars.
"Mar's quite hanxious to see you."

I found sufficient courage to say I was not feeling well, and would much
rather return home.

"Oh, but you must just come in for five minutes, dear. It'll look so
funny if you don't. I told 'em we was coming."

"I would really rather not," I urged; "some other evening." I felt
a presentiment, I confided to her, that on this particular evening I
should not shine to advantage.

"Oh, you mustn't be so shy," said Miss Sellars. "I don't like shy
fellows--not too shy. That's silly." And Miss Sellars took my arm with
a decided grip, making it clear to me that escape could be obtained only
by an unseemly struggle in the street; not being prepared for which, I
meekly yielded.

We knocked at the door of one of the small houses, Miss Sellars
retaining her hold upon me until it had been opened to us by a lank
young man in his shirt-sleeves and closed behind us.

"Don't gentlemen wear coats of a hevening nowadays?" asked Miss Sellars,
tartly, of the lank young man. "New fashion just come in?"

"I don't know what gentlemen wear in the evening or what they don't,"
retorted the lank young man, who appeared to be in an aggressive mood.
"If I can find one in this street, I'll ast him and let you know."

"Mother in the droaring-room?" enquired Miss Sellars, ignoring the
retort.

"They're all of 'em in the parlour, if that's what you mean," returned
the lank young man, "the whole blooming shoot. If you stand up against
the wall and don't breathe, there'll just be room for you."

Sweeping by the lank young man, Miss Sellars opened the parlour d