ided to learn the tango, the fact that my friends the
Hopkinses of St. John's Wood, or rather Maida Vale, had already learnt
it in Paris naturally led me to---- I say, what about an ice? It's
getting awfully hot in here."

"Oh, I don't think----"

"I'll go and get them," I said hastily; and I went and took a long time
getting them, and, as it turned out that she didn't want hers after all,
a longer time eating them. When I was ready for conversation again the
next dance was beginning. With a bow I relinquished her to another.

"Come along," said a bright voice behind me; "this is ours."

"Hallo, Norah, is that you? Come on."

We hurried in, danced in silence, and then found ourselves a comfortable
seat. For a moment neither of us spoke....

"Have you learnt the tango yet?" asked Norah.

"Fourteen," I said aloud.

"Help! Does that mean that I'm the fourteenth person who has asked you?"

"The night is yet young, Norah. You are only the eighth. But I was
betting that you'd ask me before I counted twenty. You lost, and you owe
me a pair of ivory-backed hair-brushes and a cigar-cutter."

"Bother! Anyhow, I'm not going to be stopped talking about the tango if
I want to. Did you know I was learning? I can do the scissors."

"Good. We'll do the new Fleet Street movement together, the
scissors-and-paste. You go into the ball-room and do the scissors, and
I'll--er--stick here and do the paste."

"Can't you really do any of it at all, and aren't you going to learn?"

"I can't do any of it at all, Norah. I am not going to learn, Norah."

"It isn't so very difficult, you know. I'd teach you myself for
tuppence."

"Will you stop talking about it for threepence?" I asked, and I took out
three coppers.

"No."

I sighed and put them back again.

. . . . .

It was the last dance of the evening. My hostess, finding me lonely, had
dragged me up to somebody, and I and whatever her name was were in the
supper-room drinking our farewell soup. So far we had said nothing to
each other. I waited anxiously for her to begin. Suddenly she began.

"Have you thought about Christmas presents yet?" she asked.

I nearly swooned. With difficulty I remained in an upright position. She
was the first person who had not begun by asking me if I danced the
tango!

"Excuse me," I said. "I'm afraid I didn't--would you tell me your name
again?"

I felt that it ought to be celebrated in some way. I had so