ntances," said Myra in her most solemn
manner.

"He's rather a good chap. He was at Peterhouse with a friend of mine. He
was telling me quite a good story about a 'wine' my friend gave there
once, when----"

"Did you tell him about your 'ginger-beers' at Giggleswick?" I
interrupted.

"My dear old chap, he's rather a man to be in with. He knows the
President."

"I thought nobody knew the President of the Swiss Republic," said Myra.
"Like the Man in the Iron Mask."

"Not _that_ President, Myra. The President of the Angeliques Sports
Club."

"Never heard of it," we all said.

Simpson polished his glasses and prepared delightedly to give an
explanation.

"The Sports Club runs everything here," he began. "It gives you prizes
for fancy costumes and skating and so on."

"Introduce me to the President at once," cooed Myra, patting her hair
and smoothing down her frock.

"Even if you were the Treasurer's brother," said Archie, "you wouldn't
get a prize for skating, Simpson."

"You've never seen him do a rocking seventeen, sideways."

Simpson looked at us pityingly.

"There's a lot more in it than that," he said. "The President will
introduce you to anybody. One might see--er--somebody one rather liked
the look of, and--er---- Well, I mean in an hotel one wants to enter
into the hotel life and--er--meet other people."

"Who is she?" said Myra.

"Anybody you want to marry must be submitted to Myra for approval
first," I said. "We've told you so several times."

Simpson hastily disclaimed any intention of marrying anybody, and helped
himself lavishly to champagne.

It so happened that I was the first of our party to meet the President,
an honour which, perhaps, I hardly deserved. While Samuel was seeking
tortuous introductions to him through friends of Peterhouse friends of
his, the President and I fell into each other's arms in the most natural
way.

It occurred like this. There was a dance after dinner; and Myra, not
satisfied with my appearance, sent me upstairs to put some gloves on.
(It is one of the penalties of marriage that one is always being sent
upstairs.) With my hands properly shod I returned to the ball-room, and
stood for a moment in a corner while I looked about for her. Suddenly I
heard a voice at my side.

"Do you want a partner?" it said.

I turned, and knew that I was face to face with the President.

"Well----" I began.

"You are a new-comer, aren't you? I expect you don't know m