"I don't think I can," said Sir Isaac. "Not in the habit--social
occasions."

His face expressed a panic terror of this gallant full-rigged lady ahead
of them.

"But you see now," said Mr. Brumley, with a detaining grip, "it's
unavoidable."

And the next moment Sir Isaac was mumbling his appreciations of the
introduction.

I must admit that Lady Beach-Mandarin was almost as much to meet as one
can meet in a single human being, a broad abundant billowing personality
with a taste for brims, streamers, pennants, panniers, loose sleeves,
sweeping gestures, top notes and the like that made her altogether less
like a woman than an occasion of public rejoicing. Even her large blue
eyes projected, her chin and brows and nose all seemed racing up to the
front of her as if excited by the clarion notes of her abundant voice,
and the pinkness of her complexion was as exuberant as her manners.
Exuberance--it was her word. She had evidently been a big, bouncing,
bright gaminesque girl at fifteen, and very amusing and very much
admired; she had liked the role and she had not so much grown older as
suffered enlargement--a very considerable enlargement.

"Ah!" she cried, "and so I've caught you at home, Mr. Brumley! And, poor
dear, you're at my mercy." And she shook both his hands with both of
hers.

That was before Mr. Brumley introduced Sir Isaac, a thing he did so soon
as he could get one of his hands loose and wave a surviving digit or so
at that gentleman.

"You see, Sir Isaac," she said, taking him in, in the most generous way;
"I and Mr. Brumley are old friends. We knew each other of yore. We have
our jokes."

Sir Isaac seemed to feel the need of speech but got no further than a
useful all-round noise.

"And one of them is that when I want him to do the least little thing
for me he hides away! Always. By a sort of instinct. It's such a Small
thing, Sir Isaac."

Sir Isaac was understood to say vaguely that they always did. But he had
become very indistinct.

"Aren't I always at your service?" protested Mr. Brumley with a
responsive playfulness. "And I don't even know what it is you want."

Lady Beach-Mandarin, addressing herself exclusively to Sir Isaac, began
a tale of a Shakespear Bazaar she was holding in an adjacent village,
and how she knew Mr. Brumley (naughty man) meant to refuse to give her
autographed copies of his littlest book for the Book Stall she was
organizing. Mr. Brumley confuted her gaily and