ordinary squirrel."

"There are some heavenly silver-fox stoles at Goliath and Mastodon's,"
said Suzanne, with a sigh; "if I could only inveigle Bertram into their
building and take him for a stroll through the fur department!"

"He lives somewhere near there, doesn't he?" said Eleanor. "Do you know
what his habits are? Does he take a walk at any particular time of day?"

"He usually walks down to his club about three o'clock, if it's a fine
day. That takes him right past Goliath and Mastodon's."

"Let us two meet him accidentally at the street corner to-morrow," said
Eleanor; "we can walk a little way with him, and with luck we ought to be
able to side-track him into the shop. You can say you want to get a hair-
net or something. When we're safely there I can say: 'I wish you'd tell
me what you want for your birthday.' Then you'll have everything ready
to hand--the rich cousin, the fur department, and the topic of birthday
presents."

"It's a great idea," said Suzanne; "you really are a brick. Come round
to-morrow at twenty to three; don't be late, we must carry out our ambush
to the minute."

At a few minutes to three the next afternoon the fur-trappers walked
warily towards the selected corner. In the near distance rose the
colossal pile of Messrs. Goliath and Mastodon's famed establishment. The
afternoon was brilliantly fine, exactly the sort of weather to tempt a
gentleman of advancing years into the discreet exercise of a leisurely
walk.

"I say, dear, I wish you'd do something for me this evening," said
Eleanor to her companion; "just drop in after dinner on some pretext or
other, and stay on to make a fourth at bridge with Adela and the aunts.
Otherwise I shall have to play, and Harry Scarisbrooke is going to come
in unexpectedly about nine-fifteen, and I particularly want to be free to
talk to him while the others are playing."

"Sorry, my dear, no can do," said Suzanne; "ordinary bridge at
three-pence a hundred, with such dreadfully slow players as your aunts,
bores me to tears. I nearly go to sleep over it."

"But I most particularly want an opportunity to talk with Harry," urged
Eleanor, an angry glint coming into her eyes.

"Sorry, anything to oblige, but not that," said Suzanne cheerfully; the
sacrifices of friendship were beautiful in her eyes as long as she was
not asked to make them.

Eleanor said nothing further on the subject, but the corners of her mouth
rearranged themselves