dainties, and thrown absolutely on her own boundless resources, will
create a dish of stewed green gooseberries and a companion piece of
liquid custard. These unrelated concoctions, when eaten at the same
moment, as is her intention, always remind me of the lying down
together of the lion and the lamb, and the scheme is well-nigh as
dangerous, under any other circumstances than those of the digestive
millennium. I tremble to think what would ensue if all the rhubarb
and gooseberry bushes in England should be uprooted in a single
night. I believe that thousands of cooks, those not possessed of
families or Christian principles, would drown themselves in the
Thames forthwith, but that is neither here nor there, and the
Honourable Arthur denies it. He says, "Why commit suicide? Ain't
there currants?"

I had forgotten to say that we ourselves were all en grande
toilette, down to satin slippers, feeling somehow that it was the
only proper thing to do; and when Dawson had cleared the table and
ushered in the other visitors, we ladies took our coffee and the men
their cigarettes to the three front windows, which were open as
usual to our balcony.

We seated ourselves there quite casually, as is our custom, somewhat
hidden by the lace draperies and potted hydrangeas, and whatever we
saw was to be seen by any passer-by, save that we held the key to
the whole story, and had made it our own by right of conquest.

Just at this moment--it was quarter-past nine, although it was still
bright daylight--came a little procession of servants who
disappeared within the doors, and, as they donned caps and aprons,
would now and then reappear at the windows. Presently the supper