me notion of
writing a sonnet to her.

"Hopkins," she said; "I knew you'd forgotten me."

"Of course I haven't," I said, suddenly remembering her. The sonnet
would never be written now. "We had a dance together before."

"Yes," she said. "Let me see," she added, "I did ask you if you danced
the tango, didn't I?"

THE MEN WHO SUCCEED

THE HEIR

Mr. Trevor Pilkington, of the well-known firm of Trevor Pilkington,
fixed his horn spectacles carefully upon his nose, took a pinch of
snuff, sneezed twice, gave his papers a preliminary rustle, looked
slowly round the crowded room, and began to read the will. Through forty
years of will-reading his method of procedure had always been the same.
But Jack Summers, who was sharing an ottoman with two of the outdoor
servants, thought that Mr. Pilkington's mannerisms were designed
specially to annoy him, and he could scarcely control his impatience.

Yet no one ever had less to hope from the reading of a will than Jack.
For the first twenty years of his life his parents had brought him up to
believe that his cousin Cecil was heir to his Uncle Alfred's enormous
fortune, and for the subsequent ten years his cousin Cecil had brought
his Uncle Alfred up in the same belief. Indeed, Cecil had even roughed
out one or two wills for signature, and had offered to help his
uncle--who, however, preferred to do these things by himself--to hold
the pen. Jack could not help feeling glad that his cousin was not there
to parade his approaching triumph; a nasty cold, caught a week
previously in attending his uncle to the Lord Mayor's Show, having kept
Cecil in bed.

"To the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, ten shillings
and sixpence"--the words came to him in a meaningless drone--"to the
Fresh Air Fund, ten shillings and sixpence; to the King Edward Hospital
Fund, ten shillings and sixpence"--was _all_ the money going in
charities?--"to my nephew Cecil Linley, who has taken such care of
me"--Mr. Pilkington hesitated--"four shillings and ninepence; to my
nephew, John Summers, whom, thank Heaven, I have never seen, five
million pounds----"

A long whistle of astonishment came from the ottoman. The solicitor
looked up with a frown.

"It's the surprise," apologised Jack. "I hardly expected so much. I
thought that that brute--I mean I thought my cousin Cecil had
nobbled--that is to say, was getting it all."

"The late Mr. Alfred made three wills," said the lawye