in Mrs. Ballinger's wake. But to-day a number of
maturer-looking volumes were adroitly mingled with the primeurs of the
press--Karl Marx jostled Professor Bergson, and the "Confessions of St.
Augustine" lay beside the last work on "Mendelism"; so that even to Mrs.
Leveret's fluttered perceptions it was clear that Mrs. Ballinger didn't
in the least know what Osric Dane was likely to talk about, and had
taken measures to be prepared for anything. Mrs. Leveret felt like a
passenger on an ocean steamer who is told that there is no immediate
danger, but that she had better put on her life-belt.

It was a relief to be roused from these forebodings by Miss Van Vluyck's
arrival.

"Well, my dear," the new-comer briskly asked her hostess, "what subjects
are we to discuss to-day?"

Mrs. Ballinger was furtively replacing a volume of Wordsworth by a copy
of Verlaine. "I hardly know," she said somewhat nervously. "Perhaps we
had better leave that to circumstances."

"Circumstances?" said Miss Van Vluyck drily. "That means, I suppose,
that Laura Glyde will take the floor as usual, and we shall be deluged
with literature."

Philanthropy and statistics were Miss Van Vluyck's province, and she
naturally resented any tendency to divert their guest's attention from
these topics.

Mrs. Plinth at this moment appeared.

"Literature?" she protested in a tone of remonstrance. "But this is
perfectly unexpected. I understood we were to talk of Osric Dane's
novel."

Mrs. Ballinger winced at the discrimination, but let it pass. "We can
hardly make that our chief subject--at least not TOO intentionally," she
suggested. "Of course we can let our talk DRIFT in that direction; but
we ought to have some other topic as an introduction, and that is what
I wanted to consult you about. The fact is, we know so little of Osric
Dane's tastes and interests that it is difficult to make any special
preparation."

"It may be difficult," said Mrs. Plinth with decision, "but it is
absolutely necessary. I know what that happy-go-lucky principle
leads to. As I told one of my nieces the other day, there are certain
emergencies for which a lady should always be prepared. It's in shocking
taste to wear colours when one pays a visit of condolence, or a last
year's dress when there are reports that one's husband is on the wrong
side of the market; and so it is with conversation. All I ask is that I
should know beforehand what is to be talked about; then I feel