rnment.

And she beamed round upon this gathering of natives of a quiet country
neighbourhood with the same dazzling, prominent-toothed smile as she
flashes from her friends in the front row of the stalls to her equally
devoted gallery boys.

"No need for introductions, eh?" uttered London's Love, lightly, to the
petrified-looking assembly.

I felt that I would have sacrificed another quarter's salary rather than
have missed the look on the face of the acidulated lady who came in the
car as Miss Vi Vassity perched herself lightly on the arm of the couch
where she was sitting, and called to Nellie for the love of anything to
give her a nice cup of tea.

"Does one good to see a few faces around me once again!" prattled on the
artiste, while the two girls from the other side of the valley leant
forward and devoured every detail of her appearance with gluttonous
brown eyes.

Pure ecstasy was painted all over the plain ironic face of the tall girl
with the thick black plait. I saw from the look of the hussy that she
was "taking in" everything to reproduce it at home, in that white house
on the hill. And presently there was plenty to reproduce.

For one of the rectoryish-looking party plucked up courage to ask Miss
Vassity "what she thought of this place."

That opened the floodgates!

Perched on the arm of the couch, England's Premier Comedienne proceeded
to "hold the house" with her views on this mansion and its furniture.

"Not what I'd call a lively spot; still, there's always the pheasant and
her little 'uns walking about on the lawn at three G.M., if you're fond
of geology, and the rabbit on the tennis-court at eight o'clock sharp.
That's about all the outdoor entertainment in this place," she rattled
on.

"Indoors, of course, is a fair museum of curiosities. Continuous
performance, eh, Nellie? The oil-lamps everywhere, with the collection
of midges on all the bowls; those are very fine.

"Couldn't beat those at the Tower of London! And the back kitchen, with
the water from the stand-pipe outside overflowing into the middle of the
floor. Talk about Glimpses into the Middle Ages!

"What takes my fancy is the girls clinkin' to and from the scullery in
those pattens they wear. Makes the floor look like nothing on earth but
a bar-counter where glasses have been set down, doesn't it?"--this to
the rector's wife.

"And the paint, too. And the wall-papers. Oo-er! And all the
window-cords broken," enlarged the