ht to be proud," I said, "to have a husband who's got any hair to
crop. Some husbands are quite bald."

"And some want to look as if they were quite bald."

"Very well," I said, "I will give up the hair-cutting. Next week you shall
see me in love-locks for the rest of my life."

I then went up-stairs and changed into patent leather boots, black tail
coat and all that is necessarily associated with a black tail coat. This
costume I completed with a top hat extracted from its dim and dusty lair, a
dark overcoat, a walking-stick and a pair of gloves. Thus attired I set out
for the station.

In the garden I found the junior members of the family gathered together to
escort me. When they saw me they assumed an air of profound solemnity and
doffed imaginary hats in my honour.

"He's got his Londons on after all," said Peggy, thus lightly alluding to
my serious garments.

"Will his lordship deign to take my humble arm?" said Rosie.

"John," said Helen brightly, "run on, there's a good boy, and see if
they've got out the red carpet. We must certainly knight the
station-master."

They then formed up as a festal band--mostly big drums--and preceded me to
the garden gate, where they scattered and left me with a final cheer.

At about 3 o'clock in the afternoon I found myself in the West-end--not, of
course, in the whole of it, but in that particular part of it where my
tailor has his establishment. Up to that moment I had been eager to see
him, but now that I stood before his door all desire had vanished just as a
toothache disappears when you get almost within forceps distance of a
dentist. However I encouraged myself. "These clothes," I said, "have been
waiting for months in a half-sewn state and with makeshift button-holes.
They must be put out of their misery. It's to-day or never."

My entrance was warmly welcomed: "Try on? Yes, Sir. I'll call Mr. Thurgood.
Will you step in here, Sir?"

I stepped in through a door in a glass partition and found myself in the
familiar torture-chamber. The old coloured plates of distinguished
gentlemen in dazzling uniforms still hung on the walls. _Their_
trouser-knees didn't bulge an inch. They fitted into their suits as wine
fits into a decanter. Why couldn't I be like that? Also there were the
looking-glasses artfully arranged to show you your profile or your back, a
morbid and detestable revelation of the unsuspected.

"You're quite a stranger, Sir," said Mr. Thurgood, coming b