d Herbert to you yet, have I?"

Stella-my-niece spoke with her eyes on the matinee hat before her, and
concluded, _a propos_ of the hat, though at first I feared of
Herbert--"I do hope and pray that it will come off. Hip! Hip! She's
pulling out pins."

"I had no idea there was--a Herbert."

"Oh, Nunckle! and you're responsible for the fact that he's mine at
all!"

"I responsible?"

"Well, but for you I never might have seen him even; and I'm sure there
isn't another like Herbert in the whole round world. Everyone wants
him."

Presently I enquired when she proposed to introduce this paragon to the
person responsible for him.

"I've got him here to-day."

I looked at her in pained silence, for Stella-my-niece, calmly fishing
for "hard ones" in a chocolate box, was, as it were, sheltered under the
lee of a long-haired gentleman who occupied rather more than double
half-a-crown's worth of red velvet seat.

"There?" I whispered, pointing to the long-haired gentleman who
neighboured her, and wondering what her mother would have to say about
it all.

Stella-my-niece smiled.

"Do you imagine that I should bring Herbert into the pit?"

"Point him out to me."

"I can't. Now they're going to begin!" She snuggled down into her place
and invited me to do likewise in my own as the curtain rose and revealed
the legs of one of our leading actor-managers, and the audience clapped,
hoping for more. "Now we're going to enjoy ourselves! Don't forget to
hold my hand if anything pops."

Stella-my-niece has made it a stern rule that we are not to talk during
the Acts, contriving to telegraph her appreciation of most things by
fervent clutches at my arm; but to-day the effects of this salutary
regulation were spoilt for me by Herbert. My attention wandered.

"Is he an actor?" I asked sternly, as the lights leaped up again.

"Which do you mean? I think they were all perfect darlings in that
scene."

"Why, Herbert, of course."

"HERBERT--Sir HERBERT? He isn't in this, is he? I didn't see anyone
looking as bored as he does. Hunt him up in the programme--it's down
there under your boots."

"I didn't mean TREE. I meant Herbert--your Herbert."

"My Herbert?" Stella-my-niece opened her mouth showing astonishment and
very pretty teeth.

"Yes, your Herbert. He's an actor fellow, isn't he?"

"No, he's an umbrella--my new umbrella. I bought him with the sovereign
you sent me for my birthday, and he is such a darling! I felt