yes and soaring eyebrows.

"Are you engaged to Mabel Winchester?"

"Why, by George!" said Reggie. "Do you know her?"

Archie recovered himself.

"Slightly," he said. "Slightly. Old Bill knows her slightly, as it were.
Not very well, don't you know, but--how shall I put it?"

"Slightly," suggested Bill.

"Just the word. Slightly."

"Splendid!" said Reggie van Tuyl. "Why don't you come along to the Ritz
and meet her now?"

Bill stammered. Archie came to the rescue again.

"Bill can't come now. He's got a date."

"A date?" said Bill.

"A date," said Archie. "An appointment, don't you know. A--a--in fact, a
date."

"But--er--wish her happiness from me," said Bill, cordially.

"Thanks very much, old man," said Reggie.

"And say I'm delighted, will you?"

"Certainly."

"You won't forget the word, will you? Delighted."

"Delighted."

"That's right. Delighted."

Reggie looked at his watch.

"Halloa! I must rush!"

Bill and Archie watched him as he bounded out of the restaurant.

"Poor old Reggie!" said Bill, with a fleeting compunction.

"Not necessarily," said Archie. "What I mean to say is, tastes differ,
don't you know. One man's peach is another man's poison, and vice
versa."

"There's something in that."

"Absolutely! Well," said Archie, judicially, "this would appear to be,
as it were, the maddest, merriest day in all the glad New Year, yes,
no?"

Bill drew a deep breath.

"You bet your sorrowful existence it is!" he said. "I'd like to do
something to celebrate it."

"The right spirit!" said Archie. "Absolutely the right spirit! Begin by
paying for my lunch!"

CHAPTER XX. THE-SAUSAGE-CHAPPIE-CLICKS

Rendered restless by relief, Bill Brewster did not linger long at the
luncheon-table. Shortly after Reggie van Tuyl had retired, he got up and
announced his intention of going for a bit of a walk to calm his excited
mind. Archie dismissed him with a courteous wave of the hand; and,
beckoning to the Sausage Chappie, who in his role of waiter was hovering
near, requested him to bring the best cigar the hotel could supply. The
padded seat in which he sat was comfortable; he had no engagements; and
it seemed to him that a pleasant half-hour could be passed in smoking
dreamily and watching his fellow-men eat.

The grill-room had filled up. The Sausage Chappie, having brought Archie
his cigar, was attending to a table close by, at which a woman with
a small boy in a sailor suit had