e, for
words are not usually chased down the Row.

But, though he made the sound of laughter, that terrible face which
Mrs. Jerry remembered so well, but could not give a name to, took no
part in the revelry; he was as puzzling to her as those irritating
authors who print their jokes without a note of exclamation at the end
of them. Poor Mrs. Jerry thought it must be a laugh of horrid
bitterness, and that he was referring to his dead self or something
dreadful of that sort, for which she was responsible.

"Please don't tell me," she said, in such obvious alarm that again he
laughed that awful laugh. He promised, with a profound sigh, to carry
his secret unspoken to the grave, also to come to her "At Home" if she
sent him a card.

He told her his address, but not his name, and she could not send the
card to "Occupier."

"Now tell me about yourself," said Mrs. Jerry, with charming cunning.
"Did you go away?"

"I came back a few days ago only."

"Had you any shooting?" (They nearly always threatened to make for a
distant land where there was big game.)

Tommy smiled. He had never "had any shooting" except once in his
boyhood, when he and Corp acted as beaters, and he had wept
passionately over the first bird killed, and harangued the murderer.

"No," he replied; "I was at work all the time."

This, at least, told her that his work was of a kind which could be
done out of London. An inventor?

"When are we to see the result?" asked artful Mrs. Jerry.

"Very soon. Everything comes out about this time. It is our season,
you know."

Mrs. Jerry pondered while she said: "How too entrancing!" What did
come out this month? Oh, plays! And whose season was it? The actor's,
of course! He could not be an actor with that beard, but--ah, she
remembered now!

"Are they really clever this time?" she asked roguishly--"for you must
admit that they are usually sticks."

Tommy blinked at this. "I really believe, Mrs. Jerry," he said slowly,
"it is you who don't know who I am!"

"You prepare the aristocracy for the stage, don't you?" she said
plaintively.

"I!" he thundered.

"He had a beard," she said, in self-defence.

"Who?"

"Oh, I don't know! Please forgive me! I do remember, of course, who
you are--I remember too well!" said Mrs. Jerry, generously.

"What is my name?" Tommy demanded.

She put her hands together again, beseechingly. "Please, please!" she
said. "I have such a dreadful memory for names, but--oh