PTER XLI.

CHESS.

There entered upon the scene, that is, a little lady of very gay and
airy manner; whose airiness, however, was thoroughly well bred. She was
accompanied by a tall, pleasant-looking man, of somewhat dreamy aspect;
and they were named to Lois and Madge as Mrs. and Mr. Burrage. To Mr.
Dillwyn they were not named; and the greet ing in that quarter was
familiar; the lady giving him a nod, and the gentleman an easy "Good
evening." The lady's attention came round to him again as soon as she
was seated.

"Why, Philip, I did not expect to find you. What are you doing here?"

"I was making toast a little while ago."

"I did not know that was one of your accomplishments."

"They said I did it well. I have picked up a good deal of cooking in
the course of my travels."

"In what part of the world did you learn to make toast?" asked the
lady, while a pair of lively eyes seemed to take note rapidly of all
that was in the room; rapidly but carefully, Lois thought. She was glad
she herself was hidden in the shadowy sofa corner.

"I believe that is always learned in a cold country, where people have
fire," Mr. Dillwyn answered the question.

"These people who travel all over get to be insufferable!" the little
lady went on, turning to Mrs. Wishart; "they think they know
everything; and they are not a bit wiser than the rest of us. You were
not at the De Large's luncheon,--what a pity! I know; your cold shut
you up. You must take care of that cold. Well, you lost something. This
is the seventh entertainment that has been given to that English party;
and every one of them has exceeded the others. There is nothing left
for the eighth. Nobody will dare give an eighth. One is fairly tired
with the struggle of magnificence. It's the battle of the giants over
again, with a difference."

"It is not a battle with attempt to destroy," said her husband.

"Yes, it is--to destroy competition. I have been at every one of the
seven but one--and I am absolutely tired with splendour. But there is
really nothing left for any one else to do. I don't see how one is to
go any further--without the lamp of Aladdin."

"A return to simplicity would be grateful," remarked Mrs. Wishart. "And
as new as anything else could be."

"Simplicity! O, my dear Mrs. Wishart!--don't talk of simplicity. We
don't want simplicity. We have got past that. Simplicity is the dream
of children and country folks; and it means, eating your mea