t now, and
by the time we have caught a train and got to Hollyhurst----"

"To be sure. Here goes, then."

Half an hour later Anthony, wrestling with a refractory cuff button,
looked up to see his wife at his elbow. She was very nearly a vision of
elegance and beauty; the lacking essential was explained to him by a voice
very much out of breath and a trifle petulant:

"If you care anything for me, Tony, stop everything and hook me up. I'm
all mixed up, and I can't reach, and I'm sure I've torn that little lace
frill at the back."

"All right. Where do I begin?"

"Under my left arm, I think--I can't possibly see."

"Neither can I." He was poking about under the lifted arm, among folds of
filmy stuff. "Here we are--no, we aren't. Does this top hook go in this
little pocket on the other side?"

"I suppose so--can't you tell whether it does by the look?"

"It seems a bit blind to me," murmured Anthony, struggling.

"It's meant to be blind--it mustn't show when it's fastened."

"It certainly doesn't now. Hold on--don't wriggle. I've got it now. I've
found the combination. Three turns to the right, five to the left, clear
around once, then--Hullo! I've come out wrong. The thing doesn't track at
the bottom."

"You've missed a hook."

"Oh, no. I hung onto 'em all the way down."

"Then you missed an eye. You'll have to unhook it all and begin again."

Anthony obeyed. "I'm glad I don't have to get into my clothes around the
corner this way," he commented. "Here you are. We stuck to the schedule
this time."

"Wait, dear. You haven't fastened the shoulder. There are ever so many
little hooks along there and around the arm hole."

"I should say there were. What's the good of so many?--Where do they
begin? Look out--wait a minute--Juliet, if you don't stop twisting around
so I never can do it. I can do great, heroic acts, it's the little trials
that floor me--There--no!--that doesn't look right."

Juliet ran to the mirror. "It isn't right," she cried. "Look--that corner
shouldn't lap over like that. Oh, if I could only reach myself!"

"You can't--I've often tried it. The human anatomy--Stand still,
Julie--you're getting nervous."

"If there's one thing that's trying----" murmured Juliet.

"Why do you let your dressmakers build your frocks this way? Why not get
into 'em all in front, where you can see what you're doing?--Now I've got
it. Isn't that right?"

"Yes. Wait, Tony--here's the girdle. It fastens behin