es, that's all."

"It's a fierce disguise to put on," says I; "but I guess I can stand it
for an evenin'."

So about eight-thirty we meets again, and' proceeds to hunt up this
studio buildin' over in the East 30's. It ain't any bum Bohemian
ranch, either, but a ten-story elevator joint, with clipped bay trees
on each side of the front door. Virgie's is a top floor suite, with a
boy in buttons outside and a French maid to take your things.

"Gee!" I whispers to Whity as we pushes in. "There's some swell mob
collectin', eh?"

Whity is speechless, though, and when he gets his breath again all he
can do is mumble husky, "Teddy Van Alstyne! Mrs. Cromer Paige! The
Bertie Gardiners!"

They acted like a mixed crowd, though, gazin' around at each other
curious, groupin' into little knots, and chattin' under their breath.
Bein' gents of the press, we edges into a corner behind a palm and
waits to see what happens.

"There comes Cousin Inez!" says I, nudgin' Whity. "See? The squatty
dame with the pearl ropes over her hair."

"Sainted Billikens, what a make-up!" says Whity.

And, believe me, Cousin Inez was dolled for fair. She'd peeled for the
fray, as you might say. And if the dinky shoulder straps held it was
all right; but if one of 'em broke there'd sure be some hurry call for
four yards of burlap to do her up in. She seems smilin' and happy,
though, and keeps glancin' expectant at the red velvet draperies in the
back of the room.

Sure enough, exactly on the tick of nine, the curtains part, and in
steps the hero of the evenin'. Dress suit? Say, you don't know
Virgie. He's wearin' a reg'lar monk's outfit, of some coarse brown
stuff belted in with a thick rope and open wide at the neck.

"For the love of beans, look at his feet!" I whispers.

"Sandals," says Whity, "and no socks! Blessed if Virgie isn't going
the limit!"

There's a chorus of "Ah-h-h-h's!" as he steps out, and then comes a
buzz of whispers which might have been compliments, and might not. But
it don't faze Virgie. He goes bowin' and handshakin' through the mob,
smilin' mushy on all and several, and actin' as pleased with himself as
if he'd taken the prize at a fancy dress ball. You should have seen
Cousin Inez when he gets to her!

"Oh, you utterly clever man!" she gushes. "What a genuine genius you
are!"

"Dear, sweet lady!" says he. "It is indeed gracious of you to say so."

"Help!" groans Whity, like he had a pain.

"A