ng to himself an invitation
to the ball. Undoubtedly he had practised fraud in sending invitations
to his tailor and his dancing-mistress. On the day after the ball,
beneath his great glory, he had trembled to meet Mr Duncalf's eye, lest
Mr Duncalf should ask him: "Machin, what were _you_ doing at the
Town Hall last night, behaving as if you were the Shah of Persia, the
Prince of Wales, and Henry Irving?" But Mr Duncalf had said nothing, and
Mr Duncalf's eye had said nothing, and Denry thought that the danger was
past.

Now it surged up. "Who invited you to the Mayor's ball?" demanded Mr
Duncalf like thunder.

Yes, there it was! And a very difficult question.

"I did, sir," he blundered out. Transparent veracity. He simply could
not think of a lie.

"Why?"

"I thought you'd perhaps forgotten to put my name down on the list of
invitations, sir."

"Oh!" This grimly. "And I suppose you thought I'd also forgotten to put
down that tailor chap, Shillitoe?"

So it was all out! Shillitoe must have been chattering. Denry remembered
that the classic established tailor of the town, Hatterton, whose trade
Shillitoe was getting, was a particular friend of Mr Duncalf's. He saw
the whole thing.

"Well?" persisted Mr Duncalf, after a judicious silence from Denry.

Denry, sheltered in the castle of his silence, was not to be tempted
out.

"I suppose you rather fancy yourself dancing with your betters?" growled
Mr Duncalf, menacingly.

"Yes," said Denry. "Do _you_?"

He had not meant to say it. The question slipped out of his mouth. He
had recently formed the habit of retorting swiftly upon people who put
queries to him: "Yes, are _you_?" or "No, do _you_?" The trick
of speech had been enormously effective with Shillitoe, for instance,
and with the Countess. He was in process of acquiring renown for it.
Certainly it was effective now. Mr Duncalf's dance with the Countess had
come to an ignominious conclusion in the middle, Mr Duncalf preferring
to dance on skirts rather than on the floor, and the fact was notorious.

"You can take a week's notice," said Mr Duncalf, pompously.

It was no argument. But employers are so unscrupulous in an altercation.

"Oh, very well," said Denry; and to himself he said: "Something
_must_ turn up, now."

He felt dizzy at being thus thrown upon the world--he who had been
meditating the propriety of getting himself elected to the stylish and
newly-established Sports Club at Hillport! He