club has been using the agony column. The J.H's
are being guyed unmercifully, and you'll come in for it presently. It's
a case of wine on the man who did it."

Hillard felt of his collar and drew down his cuffs. "Probably some
joke," he ventured tentatively.

"If it isn't, the man who would stoop to such tommyrot and tack the name
of his club to it must be an ass."

"No doubt about that. Odd that this is the first time I have heard about
it." But silently Hillard was swearing at his folly. There was one crumb
of comfort: the incident would be forgotten in a few days.

"I may depend upon you to-night, then?" said Merrihew.

"I shall be pleased to meet Miss Killigrew," which was a white one.
Hillard would have paid court to a laundress rather than offend
Merrihew.

And promptly at eleven he went up to the card-room and dragged Merrihew
away. Merrihew gave up his chair reluctantly. He was winning. He would
have been just as reluctant, however, had he been losing. The amateur
gambler never wants to stop.

On the way to the Killigrew apartment, Merrihew's moods varied. At one
moment he was on the heights, at the next in the depths. He simply could
not live without Kitty. Perhaps if this trip abroad turned out badly she
might change her mind. Seven thousand _could_ be made to muster. Twice
Hillard came very near making his friend a confidant of his own affair;
but he realized that, while Merrihew was to be trusted in all things, it
was not yet time.

He found a pleasing and diverting company. There was Mere Killigrew, a
quaint little old lady who deplored her daughter's occupation but
admitted that without her success, Heaven only knew how they would have
got along. There was the genial Thomas O'Mally, a low-comedian of
genuine ability, whom Hillard knew casually; Smith, a light-comedian;
and Worth, a moderately successful barytone to whom Hillard took one of
those instant and unaccountable dislikes. These three and Kitty were
going abroad. And there were several members of _The Modern Maid_
company, which went on tour the following Monday.

Kitty fancied Hillard from the start; and he on his side found her well
educated, witty and unaffected. She was even prettier than her
photograph. Merrihew's face beamed upon them both, in a kind of
benediction. He had known all along that once Jack saw Kitty, he would
become a good ally in fighting down her objections.

"Think of singing in Italy!" cried Kitty. "Isn't it just