pace with wide awnings
overhead. Except that it overlooked a formal garden instead of
streets, one might have been in a Parisian cafe. The idea was Oscar's.
Dalton had laughed at him. "You'll be a _boulevardier_, Oscar, until
you die."

Oscar had been sulky. "Well, how do you want me to do it?"

"Breakfast in bed--or in a breakfast room with things hot on the
sideboard, luncheon, out here on the terrace when the weather permits,
tea in the garden, dinner in great state in the big dining-room."

"I suppose you think you know all about it. But the thing that I am
always asking myself is, were you born to it, Dalton?"

"I've been around a lot," Dalton evaded. "Of course if you don't want
me to be perfectly frank with you, I won't."

"Be as frank as you please," Oscar had said, "but it's your air of
knowing everything that gets me."

Dalton's breakfast was a hearty one--bacon and two eggs, and a pile of
buttered toast. There had been a melon to begin with, and there was a
pot of coffee. He was eating with an appetite when Madge came down.

"I had mine in bed," Madge said, as George rose and pulled out a chair
for her. "Isn't this the beastliest fashion, having little tables?"

"That's what I told Oscar."

"Oscar and Flora will never have too much of restaurants. They belong
to the class which finds all that it wants in a jazz band and scrambled
eggs at Jack's at one o'clock in the morning. Georgie, in my next
incarnation, I hope there won't be any dansants or night frolics. I'd
like a May-pole in the sunshine and a lot of plump and rosy women and
bluff and hearty men for my friends--with a fine old farmhouse and
myself in the dairy making butter----"

George smiled at her. "I should have fancied you an Egyptian princess,
with twin serpents above your forehead instead of that turban."

"Heavens, no. I want no ardours and no Anthonys. Tell me about the
new little girl, Georgie."

"How do you know there is a--new little girl?"

"I know your tricks and your manners, and the way you managed to meet
her at the Horse Show. And you saw her last night."

"How do you know?"

"By the light in your eyes."

"Do I show it like that? Well, she's rather--not to be talked about,
Madge----"

She was not in the least affronted. "So that's it? You always begin
that way--putting them on a pedestal---- If you'd only keep one of us
there it might do you good."

"Which one--you?" he leaned a little forwar