which was the more admirable, but asserted either was to be
preferred to the original, and during the progress of the shilling meal
they affected to be distinguished members of society, to the great
astonishment of folk at neighbouring tables, and to the diversion of an
interested waiter. Completely restored now to her normal mood, Gertie
mentioned a number of alert repartees which she would have made if
Henry's sister-in-law had given suitable openings.

"I suppose," remarked Mr. Trew, emptying his cup by giving it a jerk
over his shoulder, "that, after all, she isn't nearly so bad as she's
painted. She certainly did look to me somewhat made-up; it's a custom
amongst her set, I believe. Often wonder whether it takes anybody in."

"He said she was going to invite me to her house in the country, but
she didn't. Wouldn't mind meeting Henry's mother, just once, to find
out what she is like."

"It was something on the tape," mentioned her cousin, again
endeavouring to arouse memory. "That was where I saw the name. If you
two care to come along to my club, I'll run in, and make sure."

"We can get a Waterloo omnibus from the York and Albany corner," said
Mr. Trew.

He warned them, in ascending the steps, that he was going to have a
rare lark with the driver, whose face, it appeared, was new on the
road. They took seats in front, and Mr. Trew, adopting a rustic
accent, inquired of the driver whether the canal below represented the
river Thames; in regard to Trinity Church, near Portland Road Station,
he asked if he was right in assuming this to be St. Paul's; at Peter
Robinson's he put another question, and, information given, demanded
whether Oxford Circus was being run by Barnum. These and other
inquiries were courteously replied to; and when the three alighted near
the fountain and Trew, looking up, thanked the new driver for his
kindness, the driver said, "Ta-ta, old True till Death," whipping the
omnibus on the near side to call the conductor's attention to an
approaching customer.

Mr. Trew, depressed by the failure of his elaborate scheme, walked
behind the young people, grumbling self-reproachfully. "Him
recognizing me all along, and calling me by my nickname at the finish!"

Clarence Mills ran up the staircase of his club, and the two walked
inside the railings of the square, inspected the bust of Shakespeare at
the centre. A few people were sitting about. The palatial houses of
amusement on the n