t you have only begun to live.
Gardens, towering Alps, the green Lecco on one side and the green Como
on the other; and Swiss champagne at a dollar-forty the quart! Eh?"

Merrihew produced his black cigar. This matter needed some deep
reflection, and could not be determined offhand. The ash turned white on
the end of the cigar before he replied.

"If you weren't Irish, you'd just naturally be Dago," he said with a
laugh. "But it isn't fair to shoot me up this way, with flowery
speeches."

"And then, besides all these things," Hillard added, "there's Kitty
Killigrew, singing her heart out to a people who can't understand a word
she's singing. Kitty Killigrew!"

"Can it be done for twenty-five hundred?"

"He's melting!" murmured Hillard jubilantly. "He's melting!"

"For a small amount I'd punch your head!" Merrihew chewed his cigar with
subdued fierceness. He knew very well that he was destined to go to
Europe. Kitty Killigrew, who had promised to mail the route they were to
play, and hadn't!

"It is written, Dan, that you shall go with me. Think of running into
the theater and seeing Kitty! I begin to like the music of that name."

"We'll settle this argument right here and now." Merrihew drew out a
coin. "Call it!" he cried recklessly.

"Heads!"

The coin flickered in the light, fell, and proved that all money is
perverse, by rolling under the davenport upon which they were sitting.
An amusing hunt followed. They ran their hands over the floor, turned
the rug, pulled out the davenport and looked behind, burnt innumerable
matches, and finally rang for the attendant. The situation was
explained, and he procured a candle. He was ultimately successful.

"Here it is, sir."

"Don't touch it!" warned Hillard.

"What is it, head or tail?" asked Merrihew weakly.

"Heads, sir," said the attendant, picking up the coin and offering it to
the owner.

"Keep it," said Merrihew generously, even sadly. He never got up a game
of chance that he did not get the worst of it. And now, Italy! All that
way from home! "Boy, bring up a bottle of '96."

"Dan!"

"You be still," said Merrihew savagely. "You've roped me in nicely, and
I'm game to go; but I'll have that bottle if I have to drink it all
alone."

But he did not drink it all alone. Hillard was too wise to permit that.
Merrihew might wish to add a few hundred to his letter of credit, via
the card-room.

"And the Lady in the Mask?" asked Merrihew, as they at leng