ed Bell, up here on purpose to see 'im."

Mrs. Henshaw, following the direction of his eyes, put her head round
the door.

"George!" she exclaimed, sharply.

[Illustration: George! she exclaimed, sharply 024]

Mr. Stokes smiled. "That ain't George," he said, gleefully; "That's my
friend, Mr. Alfred Bell. Ain't it a extraordinary likeness? Ain't it
wonderful? That's why I brought 'im up; I wanted George to see 'im."

Mrs. Henshaw looked from one to the other in wrathful bewilderment.

"His living image, ain't he?" said Mr. Stokes. "This is my pal George's
missis," he added, turning to Mr. Bell.

"Good afternoon to you," said that gentleman, huskily.

"He got a bad cold coming from Ireland," explained Mr. Stokes, "and,
foolish-like, he went outside a 'bus with me the other night and made it
worse."

"Oh-h!" said Mrs. Henshaw, slowly. "Indeed! Really!"

"He's quite curious to see George," said Mr. Stokes. "In fact, he was
going back to Ireland tonight if it 'adn't been for that. He's waiting
till to-morrow just to see George."

Mr. Bell, in a voice huskier than ever, said that he had altered his
mind again.

"Nonsense!" said Mr. Stokes, sternly. "Besides, George would like to see
you. I s'pose he won't be long?" he added, turning to Mrs. Hen-shaw, who
was regarding Mr. Bell much as a hungry cat regards a plump sparrow.

"I don't suppose so," she said, slowly.

"I dare say if we wait a little while--" began Mr. Stokes, ignoring a
frantic glance from Mr. Henshaw.

"Come in," said Mrs. Henshaw, suddenly.

Mr. Stokes entered and, finding that his friend hung back, went out
again and half led, half pushed him indoors. Mr. Bell's shyness he
attributed to his having lived so long in Ireland.

"He is quite the ladies' man, though," he said, artfully, as they
followed their hostess into the front room. "You should ha' seen 'im the
other night on the 'bus. We had a couple o' lady friends o' mine with
us, and even the conductor was surprised at his goings on."

Mr. Bell, by no means easy as to the results of the experiment, scowled
at him despairingly.

"Carrying on, was he?" said Mrs. Henshaw, regarding the culprit
steadily.

"Carrying on like one o'clock," said the imaginative Mr. Stokes. "Called
one of 'em 'is little wife, and asked her where 'er wedding-ring was."

"I didn't," said Mr. Bell, in a suffocating voice. "I didn't."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," said Mr. Stokes, virtuously. "Only,
as