at down to
work in an atmosphere of righteousness. I could almost imagine there
must be the beginnings of a faint luminous disc around my head.

The subject of the article I now began to write was 'Should Women
Propose?' Treading carefully on the delicate ground of the Woman's
Page, I decided that they must do nothing that is so utterly
unfeminine. 'But there are many subtle little ways in which a woman
can convey to a man her preference for him,' I penned, 'without for a
moment overstepping the bounds of that maidenly reticence which is one
of the charms of----'

The door opened and Elizabeth entered. Elizabeth has a way of entering
when I am most likely to lose the thread of my sentence.

'I'm fair worried about Miss Marryun,' she began.

I looked up with a start. 'What on earth do you mean?'

'Well, you see, the Signs are against 'er. They've bin against 'er for
days. Yesterday I see 'er sneeze three times to the left, an' that's
bad. Then when she put her right shoe on 'er wrong foot by accident, I
felt somethin' was comin'. But after I found two triangles an' a mouse
in 'er cup to-day I knew----'

[Illustration: A Bad Sign.]

'A mouse in her cup!' I marvelled.

'Fortune tellin' by tea-leaves, 'm. Well, a mouse is a Bad Sign. It's
my belief that she won't get no propogal this evenin'.'

I looked at Elizabeth sternly. I do not wish to insinuate for one
moment that she is in the habit of listening at doors, but she
certainly gains an insight into our private lives that is nothing short
of uncanny.

'I just been lookin' at the cards,' she continued, 'an' they say as
plain as can be that Mr. 'Arbinger isn't the one. 'E's the wrong
colour.'

'And what colour do you expect him to be?' I demanded.

''Im bein' fair takes King o' Dimonds. Well, Queen o' Clubs--that's
Miss Marryun--is seven cards removed from 'im and the three o' spades
comin' between spells disappointment. But, as I ses to 'er quite
recent, I ses, "If you want to see your true love aright go into the
garding by pale moonlight, walk in a circle, and say,--

"If I my true love now would see----"'

'Elizabeth,' I broke in, 'don't forget to grill master's bloaters for
breakfast.' In this way do I recall her and remind her of her duty
when she ignores the chasms of caste and class distinction which yawn
between us.

'Grilled, 'm? Right-o. Well, as I was sayin' about Miss Marryun.
She's gotta ring in 'er fortune and she _w