m so many drinks in Maiden Lane. "Cer-tain-ly. And
how are you?"

"Nicely, thanks," said Harold. "How's 'self?"

"So-so, just so-so. Now just tell me about your little affair, so I can
get 'em fixed good and plenty before I start. What d'you think'll go
best; you know 'em better than I do? Shakespeare--what? Bransby
Williams? 'Dream of Eugene Aram'? 'Kissing Cup's Race'? Imitations of
Robey, Formby, Chirgwin--what?"

Harold pondered a moment. Then he had an inspiration. "Sort 'em up if I
was you, sir. Sort 'em up. Then ev'body'll get something they like,
see?"

We entered the clubroom where the Social was to be held--a large, lofty
room, genial, clean, and well-lighted, The floor was bare, but a red
rug before the leaping fire gave a touch of cosiness. Small tables were
scattered everywhere; draughts here, dominoes there, chess elsewhere,
cards in other places. Chairs were distributed with a studied air of
casual disorder. Newspapers littered a side-bench. The grand piano, by
Cadenza of The Emporium, stood diagonally across the left centre, and on
it lay the violin-case of Freddie, who told us, with modesty, that he
"scraped nows and thens." Along the length of the farther wall stood a
large, white-robed table, heaped with coffee-urns, sandwiches, buns,
cakes, biscuits, bananas, and other delicacies. All these arrangements
were the joint work of Freddie and Harold. At five minutes to eight the
company arrived. At first it trickled in by stray couples, but later it
swelled to a generous flood, each couple nodding in acknowledgment of
the deprecatory greetings of the stewards: "Here we are again, what-oh?"
and, in more professional tones: "Gentlemen's Room to the Right, Ladies'
Room to the Left!" Victor and myself stood by the fire, Victor receiving
bashful but definitely admiring glances from the girls, for he is of the
old school, and looks more like Sir Henry Irving even than Mr. H. B.
Irving, except that he does not limp. For the first few minutes the
atmosphere was cold. The boys obviously wanted to talk to Victor, but
they seemed all too shy; so I gave Victor the tip, and with his
exquisite courtesy he moved over to a group of the boys and the girls
and, with a bow, asked a girl with a baby face, that burnt delightfully
red under his attention, if he might take a seat on that settee. In just
a minute and a half the thaw set in, and he had the company about him
bubbling with laughter and excited comment. As other