e for Lord
Chesterfield--but where is Lord Chesterfield?" he asked suddenly with a
disturbed glance around. "I hope he hasn't deserted and gone home."

"Come on, come on!" said Burnett. "There won't be a sober cab left if we
don't hurry while everything is still able to stand up."

This reasoning seemed to alarm Mitchell and he went out with him at once.

"My head feels awfully," said Clover to Jack. "It sort of grinds and
grates--does yours?"

Jack stared straight ahead and made no reply.

"I'm goin' home no more to roam," said Aunt Mary slowly and sadly,--"I'm
goin' home no more to roam, no more to sin an' sorrow. I'm goin' home no
more to roam--I'm goin' home to-morrow. O hum!" She heaved a heavy sigh.

"Now see what you've done!" said the parrot with emphasis.

"Never mind," said Clover bitterly. "Better people than you have gone home
before now; I used to do it myself before I was old enough to know worse.
Will you excuse me if I say, 'Damn this buzzing in my head?'"

"I know how you feel," said Aunt Mary sympathetically. "Don't you want me
to ring for the porter and have him make up your berth right away?"

Clover didn't seem to hear. His eyes were roving moodily about the room;
they looked almost as faded as his mustache.

"Seems to me they're gone a long time," said Jack presently, twisting a
little in his seat. "It never takes me so long to get a cab. I hold up my
hand--the man stops--and I get in--what's the matter, Aunt Mary?" He asked
the question in sudden alarm at seeing Aunt Mary bury her face hastily in
her handkerchief.

"What's the matter?" he repeated loudly.

"Don't mind me," said Aunt Mary sobbing. "It's just that I happened to
just think of Lu--Lu--Lucinda--and somehow I don't seem to have no strength
to bear it."

"Split the handkerchief between us," said Clover. "I want to cry, too, and
there's no time like the present for doing what you want to do."

"Rot!" said Jack, "look here--"

He was interrupted by the return of the embassy, Mitchell bearing the
jews-harps.

"What's the matter?" Burnett asked.

"Nothing," said Clover; "we were so worried over you, that's all." Burnett
called for the bill and found that he had run out of cash; "Or maybe I've
had my pocket picked," he suggested. "I'm beginning to be in just the mood
in which I always get my pocket picked."

Jack produced a roll of bills and settled for the refreshments. Then they
all started down stairs as Aunt Mary woul