uggested that Mr. Doom Dagshaw should take Mabel
up to the Garden Settlement to see the progress that was being made in
the building of the Mammoth Circus.

"You won't care to come?" said Mabel to her husband. And it seemed
less like a question than a command.

"No, not in my line," said Luke, still doing his best. "Hope you'll
enjoy yourselves."

When they had gone, Luke retired to his study-bedroom. There was a tap
at the door. It was Dot who entered.

"She's out," said Dot. "Boats?"

"Right-o. Gorgeous," said Luke.

* * * * *

Normally dinner was at half-past seven. But Mabel did not get back
till a quarter to eight. It was eight o'clock before they began. Mabel
offered no explanation beyond saying that there really had been a
great deal of architectural detail to examine. Luke had prepared a
series of six pleasant and gratifying things to say about Mr. Doom
Dagshaw and the Mammoth Circus. He found himself absolutely unable to
say any of them. He could say other things. He could say "Windmill,
watermill" ten times over, very quickly, without a mistake. But
somehow he could not say Mammoth Circus.

Well, at any rate, he might be bright and amusing. At this time it was
customary--perhaps too customary--to ask if you had read a certain
book by a certain author, the name of the author being artfully
arranged so as to throw some light on the title of the book. Luke
remembered three of these which had been told him at the office.
Unfortunately they were all of them far too improper for general use.

So he just said any bright thing that came into his mind. Mabel looked
very tired. She admitted she was tired. She said she had walked about
a thousand miles.

"And then I come back to this kind of thing," she said.

The rest of the dinner, which was brief, passed in complete silence.
Then Mabel went into the drawing-room, and Luke remained behind and
lit a cigarette.

"This will never do," he said to himself. "I must keep it up. I must
be pleasant. I must say number one of those six sentences about Doom
Dagshaw and the Mammoth Circus, even it if splits my palate and my
tongue drops out."

He threw down his cigarette, walked firmly into the drawing-room, and
closed the door. "Mabel," he said, "I hope you enjoyed your visit to
the Doom Circus with Mr. Mammoth Dagshaw."

Mabel looked up coldly from the book she was reading.

"Back again already?" she said. "Well, what was it you