at table with them.

"Who _are_ you, then, if that is Lady Drakmanton?" they asked in panic-
stricken bewilderment.

"That is just what I don't know," was the answer; "and you don't seem to
know much better than I do."

"You came up to us in the club--"

"In what club?"

"The New Didactic, in Calais Street."

"The New Didactic!" exclaimed Lady Drakmanton with an air of returning
illumination; "thank you so much. Of course, I remember now who I am.
I'm Ellen Niggle, of the Ladies' Brasspolishing Guild. The Club employs
me to come now and then and see to the polishing of the brass fittings.
That's how I came to know Lady Drakmanton by sight; she's very often in
the Club. And you are the ladies who so kindly asked me out to lunch.
Funny how it should all have slipped my memory, all of a sudden. The
unaccustomed good food and wine must have been too much for me; for the
moment I really couldn't call to mind who I was. Good gracious," she
broke off suddenly, "it's ten past two; I should be at a polishing job in
Whitehall. I must scuttle off like a giddy rabbit. Thanking you ever
so."

She left the room with a scuttle sufficiently suggestive of the animal
she had mentioned, but the giddiness was all on the side of her
involuntary hostesses. The restaurant seemed to be spinning round them;