the line is busy."

"All of which," said the young man, in the same slow, sober voice, "is
sage counsel for the frivolous. I am not. As you look like a very
sensible young woman, I put a sensible question to you. Perhaps my
language was vague. What I meant to convey was: do you think I would
be justified in taking a drink at this early hour of the day to brace
me for the ordeal of falling in love with an unknown affinity?"

"If your language is personal," replied Miss McCorkle, with a
sarcastic laugh, "my advice is to take six drinks. I'm in love with a
chauffeur."

"Good," said the young man, brightly, "and may I ask if it was a
sudden or a swift affair?"

"Swift," snapped Miss McCorkle. "He ran over my stepmother, then
brought her home. I let him in. We were engaged next day. Here's the
ring, one and one-half carats, white!--now, what number do you want?"

"A thousand thanks--get me the Ritz-Carlton, please, and don't break
this ten-dollar bill. I hate change, it spoils the set of one's
pockets."

As Whitney Barnes squeezed himself into the booth, Miss McCorkle
squinted one eye at the crisp bill he had laid before her and smiled.

"There's more than one way," she thought, "of being asked not to
listen to dove talk, and I like this method best."

The shrewd hello girl, however, had erred in the case of Whitney
Barnes, for this is the way his end of the conversation in booth No. 7
ran:

--This the Ritz? Yes. Kindly connect me with Mr. Smith.

--What Smith? Newest one you got. Forget the first name. Thomas Smith,
you say. Well, give me Tom.

--Hello, there, Trav--that is, Tom, or do you prefer Thomas?

--What's that? Came in by way of Boston on a Cunarder? What's all the
row? Read you were in Egypt, doing the pyramids.

--Can't explain over the wire, eh. Hope it isn't a divorce case;
they're beastly.

--Ought to know you better than that. Say, what's the matter with your
little angora?

--Be serious; it's no joking matter. Well, if it wasn't serious how
could I joke about it? You can't joke about a joke.

--I'm a fool! I wonder where I heard that before. Oh, yes--a few
minutes ago. My paternal parent said the same thing.

--Can I meet you at your house? Where is it? I ought to know? I don't
see why, you keep building it over all the time and then go way and
leave it for two years at a stretch. Then when you do come home you go
and live under the----

--Cut that out! My glory, but there is a myster