I hear you murmur, "Rinse your mouth with this."

I thank you, Dr. WALLACE, for that word;
My teeth, I'm sure, require attention soon;
Ah! Widow CLICQUOT, how my heart is stirred!
Appointment? Right. To-morrow afternoon.

* * * * *

[Illustration: AT THE OPERA.

_First Patroness of Art._ "BUT WHY COME HERE IF IT BORES YOU SO?"

_Second ditto._ "MY DEAR! ONE MUST OCCUPY ONESELF SOMEHOW AFTER DINNER
TILL IT'S TIME TO GO SOMEWHERE."]

* * * * *

MEETING THE COUNTESS.

"Could you find time to meet the Countess of Aire?" inquired the
Vicar's wife with her gracious smile, after we had chanced together at
a corner of our village street. "At five o'clock," she added, "at the
cross-roads."

"I shall be charmed," said I. "But what a funny meeting-place."

"It seems to me very natural," said the Vicar's wife.

"Is there going to be speech-making?" I asked.

"How absurd!" she answered. "But of course there will be a
discussion."

"Who else will be present?" I asked.

"No one," she said.

I was never so puzzled in my life.

"It really seems rather odd," said I, "that we should meet alone at
the cross-roads. And it seems so romantic too. At five o'clock, you
said? I always think that is such a sentimental hour."

A bewildered look now crept into the Vicar's wife's face.

"Are you joking or serious?" she said. "Perhaps I have not made myself
clear. I am simply asking if you could kindly meet the Countess of
Aire in place of the Vicar."

"And I say I shall be charmed," I repeated; "and I think the prospect
is most alluring, and I shall endeavour to do the occasion all honour.
I shall put on my best mustard-coloured suit and my new green Tyrolean
hat--the one with the feather in it."

"I don't see why you should, simply to meet the Countess of Aire."

"But think of the romance of the meeting," I urged. "Just fancy! It
is to be at the cross-roads, perhaps above the nameless grave of a
suicide. There I shall be waiting at five o'clock, all dressed up in
my mustard suit and tremulous with excitement. And at last there will
dash up to the trysting-place some splendid equipage, a silver-plated
car, or the family coach with prancing and foaming horses. And
there, at the cross-roads, we shall have our little discussion; no
speech-making, all quite informal. Oh, I wish it could have been
moonlight!"

The Vicar's wife began to look quite