the genial gentleman who occasionally imbibed.

The School-master's reply was not audible.

"I say," said the genial gentleman to the Idiot, as they passed out into
the hall, "they didn't get much the best of you in that matter. But,
tell me, who was Clink, anyhow?"

"Never heard of him before," returned the Idiot.

"And Burrows?"

"Same as Clink."

"Know anything about _Elsmere_?" chuckled the genial gentleman.

"Nothing--except that it and 'Pigs in Clover' came out at the same time,
and I stuck to the Pigs."

And the genial gentleman who occasionally imbibed was so pleased at the
plight of the School-master and of the Bibliomaniac that he invited the
Idiot up to his room, where the private stock was kept for just such
occasions, and they put in a very pleasant morning together.

IV

The guests were assembled as usual. The oatmeal course had been eaten in
silence. In the Idiot's eye there was a cold glitter of expectancy--a
glitter that boded ill for the man who should challenge him to
controversial combat--and there seemed also to be, judging from sundry
winks passed over the table and kicks passed under it, an understanding
to which he and the genial gentleman who occasionally imbibed were
parties.

As the School-master sampled his coffee the genial gentleman who
occasionally imbibed broke the silence.

"I missed you at the concert last night, Mr. Idiot," said he.

"Yes," said the Idiot, with a caressing movement of the hand over his
upper lip; "I was very sorry, but I couldn't get around last night. I
had an engagement with a number of friends at the athletic club. I
meant to have dropped you a line in the afternoon telling you about it,
but I forgot it until it was too late. Was the concert a success?"

"Very successful indeed. The best one, in fact, we have had this season,
which makes me regret all the more deeply your absence," returned the
genial gentleman, with a suggestion of a smile playing about his lips.
"Indeed," he added, "it was the finest one I've ever seen."

"The finest one you've what?" queried the School-master, startled at the
verb.

"The finest one I've ever seen," replied the genial gentleman. "There
were only ten performers, and really, in all my experience as an
attendant at concerts, I never saw such a magnificent rendering of
Beethoven as we had last night. I wish you could have been there. It was
a sight for the gods."

"I don't believe," said the Idiot, with a