velling, at a
respectful distance, you understand, and it will be my pleasure as well
as business to amuse and interest her during her stay. I do
everything--play tennis, bridge, dance all the latest steps, know the
latest jokes, can sing, converse on any subject or remain silent, am a
life-saver, can run an auto, flirt discreetly, and, in fact, am the most
delightful companion for a wife that you can imagine. Remember, sir,
that unless you engage my services your wife is at the mercy of all the
strangers she may meet and being in that peculiar condition of mind
where she is bound to be attracted by things that would otherwise seem
commonplace, there is no telling what the end might be. But with me she
is perfectly safe. I guarantee results. I insure your heart's happiness
against the future. Terms reasonable. I can refer you to--"

In reply the enforced host rose up, and, taking him not too gently by
the arm, led him to the door.

"My friend," he said, coldly, "your proposition of safety first doesn't
interest me. No, sir! I'm sending my wife to Virginia in hopes that she
will actually fall in love with somebody else, so I won't have to endure
what little I see of her any more, and here you come in to spoil my
future. No, sir!"

His visitor turned and faced him with a bright smile.

"My dear sir," he said, "wait. Business man that you are, you do not
understand the extent of our resources, which cover every emergency. In
accordance with our usual custom, I have already met your wife at a
bridge party, and I might say that she is crazy about me. Now, sir, for
double the price of my regular fee and a small annual stipend, which is
about half the alimony you might have to pay, I will agree to marry and
take her off your hands in six months, making you happy for the rest of
your life. Sign here, please. Thank you."

FACING THE TRUTH

Sanderson was on a visit to Simpkins, and in due course, naturally, he
was shown the family album.

"Yes," said Simpkins, as he turned the leaves, "that's my wife's second
cousin's aunt Susan. And that's Cousin James, and that's a friend of
ours, and that--oh, now, who do you think that is?"

"Don't know," said Sanderson.

"Well, that's my wife's first husband, my boy."

"Great Scot! What a perfect brainless-looking idiot. But excuse me, old
fellow, I didn't know your wife was a widow when you married her."

"She wasn't," said Simpkins stiffly. "That, sir, is a portrait of mysel