y I
liked her. Her husband was a successful earthenware manufacturer.
Occasionally he had to make long journeys--to Canada, to Australia and
New Zealand--in the interests of his business; so that she was sometimes
a grass-widow, with plenty of money to spend. Her age was about
thirty-five; bright, agreeable, shrewd, downright, energetic; a little
short and a little plump. Wherever she was, she was a centre of
interest! In default of children of her own she amused herself with the
children of her husband's sister, Mrs Carter. Mr Carter was another
successful earthenware manufacturer. Her favourite among nephews and
nieces was young Ellis Carter, a considerable local dandy and "dog."
Such was Mrs Ellis.

"Are you a widow just now?" I asked her, after we had shaken hands.

"Yes," she said. "But my husband touched at Port Said yesterday, thank
Heaven."

"Are you ordering clothes for him to wear on his arrival?" I adopted a
teasing tone.

"Can you picture Henry in a Sackville Street suit?" she laughed.

I could not. Henry's clothes usually had the appearance of having been
picked up at a Jew's.

"Then what _are_ you doing here?" I insisted.

"I came here because I remembered you saying once that this was your
tailor's," she said, "so I thought it would be a pretty good place."

Now I would not class my tailor with the half-dozen great tailors of the
world, but all the same he is indeed a, pretty good tailor.

"That's immensely flattering," I said. "But what have you been doing
with him?"

"Business," said she. "And if you want to satisfy your extraordinary
inquisitiveness any further, don't you think you'd better come right
away now and offer me some tea somewhere?"

"Splendid," I said. "Where?"

"Oh! The Hanover, of course!" she answered.

"Where's that?" I inquired.

"Don't you know the Hanover Tea-rooms in Regent Street?" she exclaimed,
staggered.

I have often noticed that metropolitan resorts which are regarded by
provincials as the very latest word of London style, are perfectly
unknown to Londoners themselves. She led me along Vigo Street to the
Hanover. It was a huge white place, with a number of little alcoves and
a large band. We installed ourselves in one of the alcoves, with
supplies of China tea and multitudinous cakes, and grew piquantly
intimate, and then she explained her visit to my tailor's. I propose to
give it here as nearly in her own words as I can.

I

I wouldn't tell yo