e shook her head at the contents, which consisted of a small, flabby-
looking meat pie in a tin dish, and two pale, flat mince tarts.

"It doesn't nourish you, dearie," complained Mary. "You could have
bought yourself a nice bit of meat with the same money."

"And you would have had all the trouble of cooking it," answered the
girl. "That only wants warming up."

"But I like cooking, you know, dearie," grumbled Mary. "There's no
interest in warming things up."

The girl laughed. "You don't have to go far for your fun," she said.
"I'll bring a sole next time; and you shall do it _au gratin_."

Mary put the indigestible-looking pasties into the oven, and almost
banged the door. Miss Ensor proceeded to lay the table. "How many, do
you think?" she asked. Mary was doubtful. She hoped that, it being
Christmas Day, they would have somewhere better to go.

"I passed old 'Bubble and Squeak,' just now, spouting away to three men
and a dog outside the World's End. I expect he'll turn up," thought Miss
Ensor. She laid for four, leaving space for more if need be. "I call it
the 'Cadger's Arms,'" she explained, turning to Joan. "We bring our own
victuals, and Mary cooks them for us and waits on us; and the more of us
the merrier. You look forward to your Sunday evening parties, don't
you?" she asked of Mary.

Mary laughed. She was busy in a corner with basins and a saucepan. "Of
course I do, dearie," she answered. "I've always been fond of company."

There came another opening of the door. A little hairy man entered. He
wore spectacles and was dressed in black. He carried a paper parcel
which he laid upon the table. He looked a little doubtful at Joan. Mary
introduced them. His name was Julius Simson. He shook hands as if under
protest.

"As friends of Mary Stopperton," he said, "we meet on neutral ground. But
in all matters of moment I expect we are as far asunder as the poles. I
stand for the People."

"We ought to be comrades," answered Joan, with a smile. "I, too, am
trying to help the People."

"You and your class," said Mr. Simson, "are friends enough to the People,
so long as they remember that they are the People, and keep their proper
place--at the bottom. I am for putting the People at the top."

"Then they will be the Upper Classes," suggested Joan. "And I may still
have to go on fighting for the rights of the lower orders."

"In this world," explained Mr. Simson, "someone has got