latter an envelope.

"From the little old gentleman," he announced, "who was fussing round
the church this morning."

Mrs. Dory tore it open and gave a cry of delight. A diamond cross, worth
all the rest of her presents put together, flashed soft lights from a
background of dull velvet. Her husband had looked over her shoulder, and
with a scowl seized the morocco case and threw it far from him.

It was the only disturbing incident of a highly successful function!

At precisely the same moment when the wedding guests were seated
around the hospitable board of Daisy Villa, a celebration of a somewhat
different nature was taking place in the more aristocratic neighbourhood
of Curzon Street. Here, however, the little party was a much smaller
one, and the innocent gaiety of the gathering at Daisy Villa was
entirely lacking. The luncheon table around which the four men were
seated presented all the unlovely signs of a meal where self-restraint
had been abandoned--where conviviality has passed the bounds of licence.
Edibles were represented only by a single dish of fruit; the tablecloth,
stained with wine and cigar ash, seemed crowded with every sort of
bottle and every sort of glass. A magnum of champagne, empty, another
half full, stood in the middle of the table; whisky, brandy, liqueurs of
various sorts were all represented; glasses--some full, some empty, some
filled with cigar ash and cigarette stumps--an ugly sight!

The guest in chief arose. Short, thick-set, red-faced, with bulbous
eyes, and veins about his temples which just now were unpleasantly
prominent, he seemed, indeed, a very fitting person to have been the
recipient of such hospitality. He stood clutching a little at the
tablecloth and swaying upon his feet. He spoke as a drunken man, but
such words as he pronounced clearly showed him to be possessed of a
voice naturally thick and raspy. It was obvious that he was a person of
entirely different class from his three companions.

"G--gentlemen," he said, "I must be off. I thank you very much for
this--hospitality. Honoured, I'm sure, to have sat down in such--such
company. Good afternoon, all!"

He lurched a little toward the door, but his neighbour at the table--who
was also his host--caught hold of his coat tail and pulled him back into
his chair.

"No hurry, Masters," he said. "One more liqueur, eh? It's a raw
afternoon."

"N--not another drop, Sir Richard!" the man declared. "Not another drop
to