his hands folded over a fancy waistcoat of startling design, and, placing
a small box of small cigars on his knees, wished him the usual "Happy
Returns." The entrance of the ladies, who seemed as though they had just
come off the ice, interrupted Mr. Culpepper's thanks.

"Getting spoiled, that's what I am," he remarked, playfully. "See this
waistcoat? My old Aunt Elizabeth sent it this morning."

He leaned back in his chair and glanced down in warm approval. "The
missis gave me a pipe, and Florrie gave me half a pound of tobacco. And
I bought a bottle of port wine myself, for all of us."

He pointed to a bottle that stood on the supper-table, and, the ladies
retiring to the kitchen to bring in the supper, rose and placed chairs.
A piece of roast beef was placed before him, and, motioning Mr. Sharp to
a seat opposite Florrie, he began to carve.

"Just a nice comfortable party," he said, genially, as he finished.
"Help yourself to the ale, Bert."

Mr. Sharp, ignoring the surprise on the faces of the ladies, complied,
and passed the bottle to Mr. Culpepper. They drank to each other, and
again a flicker of surprise appeared on the faces of Mrs. Culpepper and
her niece. Mr. Culpepper, noticing it, shook his head waggishly at Mr.
Sharp.

"He drinks it as if he likes it," he remarked.

"I do," asserted Mr. Sharp, and, raising his glass, emptied it, and
resumed the attack on his plate. Mr. Culpepper unscrewed the top of