ordering a dinner as did his master; and when Van Bibber was
too tired to make out the menu, Walters would look over the
card himself and order the proper wines and side dishes; and
with such a carelessly severe air and in such a masterly
manner did he discharge this high function that the waiters
looked upon him with much respect.

But respect even from your equals and the satisfaction of
having your fellow-servants mistake you for a member of the
Few Hundred are not enough. Walters wanted more. He wanted
the further satisfaction of enjoying the delicious dishes he
had ordered; of sitting as a coequal with the people for whom
he had kept a place; of completing the deception he practised
only up to the point where it became most interesting.

It certainly was trying to have to rise with a
subservient and unobtrusive bow and glide out unnoticed by the
real guests when they arrived; to have to relinquish the feast
just when the feast should begin. It would not be pleasant,
certainly, to sit for an hour at a big empty table, ordering
dishes fit only for epicures, and then, just as the waiters
bore down with the Little Neck clams, so nicely iced and so
cool and bitter-looking, to have to rise and go out into the
street to a table d'hote around the corner.

This was Walters's state of mind when Mr. Van Bibber told
him for the hundredth time to keep a table for him for three
at Delmonico's. Walters wrapped his severe figure in a frock-
coat and brushed his hair, and allowed himself the dignity of
a walking-stick. He would have liked to act as a substitute