he last work on "Mendelism"; so that even to Mrs. Leveret's fluttered
perceptions it was clear that Mrs. Ballinger didn't in the least know
what Osric Dane was likely to talk about, and had taken measures to be
prepared for anything. Mrs. Leveret felt like a passenger on an ocean
steamer who is told that there is no immediate danger, but that she had
better put on her life-belt.

It was a relief to be roused from these forebodings by Miss Van Vluyck's
arrival.

"Well, my dear," the new-comer briskly asked her hostess, "what subjects
are we to discuss to-day?"

Mrs. Ballinger was furtively replacing a volume of Wordsworth by a copy
of Verlaine. "I hardly know," she said, somewhat nervously. "Perhaps we
had better leave that to circumstances."

"Circumstances?" said Miss Van Vluyck drily. "That means, I suppose,
that Laura Glyde will take the floor as usual, and we shall be deluged
with literature."

Philanthropy and statistics were Miss Van Vluyck's province, and she
resented any tendency to divert their guest's attention from these
topics.

Mrs. Plinth at this moment appeared.

"Literature?" she protested in a tone of remonstrance. "But this is
perfectly unexpected. I understood we were to talk of Osric Dane's
novel."

Mrs. Ballinger winced at the discrimination, but let it pass. "We can
hardly make that our chief subject--at least not _too_ intentionally,"
she suggested. "Of course we can let our talk _drift_ in that direction;
but we ought to have some other topic as an introduction, and that is
what I wanted to consult you about. The fact is, we know so little
of Osric Dane's tastes and interests that it is difficult to make any
special preparation."

"It may be difficult," said Mrs. Plinth with decision, "but it is
necessary. I know what that happy-go-lucky principle leads to. As I told
one of my nieces the other day, there are certain emergencies for which
a lady should always be prepared. It's in shocking taste to wear colours
when one pays a visit of condolence, or a last year's dress when there
are reports that one's husband is on the wrong side of the market; and
so it is with conversation. All I ask is that I should know beforehand
what is to be talked about; then I feel sure of being able to say the
proper thing."

"I quite agree with you," Mrs. Ballinger assented; "but--"

And at that instant, heralded by the fluttered parlourmaid, Osric Dane
appeared upon the threshold.

Mrs. Leveret told h