t of
invited guests.

"Leave it to me," says I. "You just pick out about a dozen patronesses.
Pick 'em from the top, the ones that are featured oftenest in the
society notes. And me, I'll sift out a couple of hundred sound
propositions from the corporation lists,--parties that have stayed on
the right side of the market and still have cash to spend."

Aunty nods approvin'. She even hands over some names she'd jotted down
herself and asks me to put 'em in if they're all right.

"Most of 'em are fine," says I, glancin' over the slip; "but who's this
W. T. Wiggins with no address?"

"I particularly want to reach him," says she. "He is a wealthy merchant
who is apt to be rather generous, I am told, if properly approached."

"I'll look him up," says I, "and see that he gets an
invite--registered."

"Of course," goes on Aunty, "he doesn't belong socially, you understand;
but in this instance----"

"Uh-huh!" says I. "You'll be pleased to meet his checkbook. And, by the
way, what schedule are you runnin' this on,--doors open at when?"

"The cards will read, 'From half after four until seven,'" says Aunty.

"I see," says I. "Then if I drift in before six a frock coat will pass
me."

And for the first time durin' the session she inspects me insultin'
through her lorgnette. "Really," says she, "I had not considered that it
would be necessary----"

"Eh?" I gasps. "Ah, have a heart! Think how handy I'd be if someone did
another flop, or if Miss Vee wanted----"

"Verona will be fully occupied in serving tea," breaks in Aunty.
"Besides, we shall try to give this affair the appearance, at least, of
a genuine social function. I imagine that the presence of such persons
as Mr. Wiggins will make the task sufficiently difficult. Don't you
see?"

"I ought to," says I. "You ain't left much to the imagination. Sort of a
blot on the landscape I'd be, would I?"

Aunty shrugs her shoulders. "Please remember," says she, "that I am not
making social distinctions. I merely recognize those which exist. You
must not hold me responsible for----"

"Oh, Aunty," breaks in Vee, trippin' into our corner impulsive, "we've
forgotten the tea things. I must go out and find a store and get them at
once. Mayn't Torchy come to carry the bundles?"

"Yes," says Aunty; "but I think I will go also, to be sure you order the
right things."

Think of carryin' round a disposition like that! She trails right along
with us too, and just to make the t