you been to any of her tea-parties? They turn down the lights, don't
they?'

As Mildred was about to answer, Cissy said, 'Oh, here's Freddy.'

Mr. Hopwood Blunt was tall and fair, a brawny young Englishman still,
though the champagne of fashionable restaurants and racecourses was
beginning to show itself in a slight puffiness in his handsome florid
cheeks. He shook hands carelessly with Miss Clive, whom he called Cis,
and declared himself dead beat. She hastened to hand him her chair.

'I know what's the matter with you,' she said, 'too much champagne
last night at the Cafe Royal.'

'Wrong again. We weren't at the Cafe Royal, we dined at the Bristol.
Don't like the place; give me the good old Cafe Savoy.'

'How many bottles?'

'Don't know; know that I didn't drink my share. It was something I had
after.'

Then followed an account of the company and the dinner. The
conversation was carried on in allusions, and Mildred heard something
about Tommy's girl and a horse that was worth backing at Kempton. At
last it occurred to Cissy to introduce Mildred. Mr. Hopwood Blunt made
a faint pretence of rising from his chair, and the conversation turned
on the 'Bather.'

'I think you ought to make her a little better looking. What do you