time to giving the wife a good time." He pulled out his watch.
"Say, you'll excuse me. We've got a date."

"Of course," said Jackson.

Skinner grasped Jackson's hand cordially. "Say, won't you run in again
and have a chat? I'm awfully glad to have met you."

"Well, I'll be jiggered," said Jackson to himself as he left The Hotel.
Anyhow, he reflected, as he walked downtown to his office, he'd taken
the first step, he'd broken the ice. It had gone against the grain to
do it, but it was entirely on the wife's account. He'd let Skinner
take the next step. He'd be darned if _he_ would.

But as usual in social matters, the woman's domain entirely, the man in
the case reckoned without his host!

For two whole days Jackson waited in his office for Skinner to
appear--waited in vain. He dreaded going home to dinner, dreaded
formula number two. Each night he half determined to 'phone some
excuse and dine at the club, but put the suggestion aside as petty,
shirking. However, nothing was said at dinner by the good Mrs.
Curmudgeon, and Jackson began to feel that the incident was closed.

If only the departure, the sudden departure, of Skinner would be as
conspicuously recorded as his advent had been, what a relief it would
be. Nothing further appeared in the papers about Skinner, however, and
Jackson was flattering himself that that gentleman had folded his tent
like the Arab. A great calm prevailed in the heart of Jackson. But
this proved to be only a weather-breeder.

Sunday morning when Jackson entered the breakfast room, he found his
wife in tears. "Look," she cried, holding up the paper and pointing to
the great headline.

"What's the matter? Some accident? Somebody dead?"

"I should say not! Somebody's very much alive! We're the dead ones!"

Jackson took the paper from her hand and read: "Important Social Event.
The West dines the East. Mr. and Mrs. J. Matthews Wilkinson entertain
at a quiet, select dinner Mr. and Mrs. William Manning Skinner, of New
York. The dinner guests were Mr. and Mrs. Philip Armitage, Mr. and
Mrs. Almeric Baird, Mr. and Mrs. Jack Wendell--"

Jackson put the paper down. Somehow he felt guilty. He avoided his
wife's reproachful eyes. But he did n't dare cover up his ears, and
the ear is not always so successful at avoiding as the eye. The eye
can see only straight ahead, but the ear can hear from all around.

"Think of it," sniffled Mrs. Jackson, her sniffle developing