slightly swaying, attested. A
tall man, gray-haired, and of an extraordinary thinness--a caricature
of Don Quixote himself, if such a thing were possible.

"The Lady Allegra," he went on, "is unfortunately indisposed. She begs
me to tender her apologies and regrets. I am her ladyship's resident
physician, and my name is Gonzales." His eyes, hidden behind smoked
glasses, examined me attentively.

I murmured some words of conventional regrets, and, truth to tell, I
was bitterly disappointed. I turned as though to go.

"It is the Lady Allegra's wish that you should dine here this evening,"
continued Dr. Gonzales. "Solus, it is true, but the disappointment is a
mutual one; of that you may be assured." Again I bowed and intimated my
willingness to obey.

The dining-room was an apartment of unusual size, panelled in Santo
Domingo mahogany, the rich color of the wood standing in admirable
contrast to the dark-green, watered silk with which the walls were
covered. A magnificent tapestry, representing Dido's hunting-party in
honor of AEneas, filled nearly the whole of one side wall, and on the
chimney-breast opposite hung a mirror similar in appearance to that in
the drawing-room. The illumination of the room was peculiar but
effective--four bronze female figures, each holding in her hands a
globe of translucent glass through which a mellow radiance diffused
itself.

The table, large enough to accommodate King Arthur and his knights, was
beautifully set with plate and crystal, but only two covers had been
laid. Red-Fez, who had now assumed the functions of a butler, showed me
to my place, and then took up his stand behind the empty chair of his
mistress. The two serving-men began immediately upon their duties.

It was an extraordinary repast, for to both my eye and my palate the
viands were utterly unknown. In fact, every dish had as its basis a
peculiar substance that in appearance faintly suggested isinglass. But
it had no taste, that I could discover, other than the flavor
communicated to it by the various sauces and dressings with which it
was served. It appeared first in the soup, and then, omitting the fish
course, I recognized it as the foundation of an excellent vol-au-vent.
It served again as a substitute for meat, compressed and moulded in the
form of French chops. There was even a passable imitation of a green
goose. I had a slice from the breast, and it tasted very well. The
philosophers tell us that there is