who had
admitted Craig, "take Professor Ashleigh's servant into the kitchen and
see that he has something before he leaves for home. Now, Professor, if
you will come this way."

They reached a little room in the far corner of the house. Mrs. Rheinholdt
apologised as she switched on the electric lights.

"It is a queer little place to bring you to," she said, "but my husband
used to spend many hours here, and he would never allow anything to be
moved. You see, the specimens are in these cases."

The Professor nodded. His general attitude towards the forthcoming
exhibition was merely one of politeness. As the first case was opened,
however, his manner completely changed. Without taking the slightest
further notice of his hostess, he adjusted a pair of horn-rimmed
spectacles and commenced to mumble eagerly to himself. Mrs. Rheinholdt,
who did not understand a word, strolled around the apartment, yawned, and
finally interrupted a little stream of eulogies, not a word of which she
understood, concerning a green beetle with yellow spots.

"I am so glad you are interested, Professor," she said. "If you don't
mind, I will rejoin my guests. You will find a shorter way back if you
keep along the passage straight ahead and come through the conservatory."

"Certainly! With pleasure!" the Professor agreed, without glancing up.

His hostess sighed as she turned to leave the room. She left the door
ajar. The Professor's face was almost touching the glass case in which
reposed the green beetle with yellow spots.

* * * * *

Mrs. Rheinholdt's reception, notwithstanding the temporary absence of its
presiding spirit, was without doubt an unqualified success. In one of the
distant rooms the younger people were dancing. There were bridge tables,
all of which were occupied, and for those who preferred the more
old-fashioned pastime of conversation amongst luxurious surroundings,
there was still ample space and opportunity. Philip Rheinholdt, with a
pretty young debutante upon his arm, came out from the dancing room and
looked around amongst the little knots of people.

"I wonder where mother is," he remarked.

"Looking after some guests somewhere, for certain," the girl replied.
"Your mother is so wonderful at entertaining, Philip."

"It's the hobby of her life," he declared. "Never so happy as when she can
get hold of somebody every one's talking about, and show him off. Can't
think what she's don