weight.

* * * * *
[Illustration: MORE HINTS TO SOCIAL CLIMBERS: HOW TO ATTRACT NOTICE.]

* * * * *

THE BROWN LADY.

We were talking of the sex, the dark and the fair, and "Give me," he
said, "a brunette every time. But how seldom one meets them now!"

I expressed surprise at this.

"Yes," he said, "it is so. Plenty of women with dark hair, but not
dark skins. The true brunette is very rare."

"I know one," I said; "probably the most perfect brunette in London."

"Young?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Could I--would you take me to see her?" he asked.

"Certainly," I said.

"When?" he asked.

"Now," I said; "this afternoon. But we must hurry. Her servants have
orders not to let anyone in after four."

"You're sure she won't mind?" he asked.

"Absolutely," I said. "My friends are hers. I've introduced lots of
people to her and she's delighted."

He smiled blissfully.

Having obtained a taxi I gave an address in Regent's Park, but
told the driver to stop at a shop on the way "She loves sweets," I
explained.

"They all do," he replied, with the sententiousness of gallantry, as
though speaking from abysmal depths of knowledge.

"Yes, but she has a more catholic taste than most," I said. "She's the
only brunette--or, if it comes to that, the only blonde--I ever knew
with a weakness for--well, I'll make you guess."

"Preserved ginger?" he suggested.

"No," I said.

"American pop-corn?"

"Not that I know," I said.

"Tell me," he replied.

"Condensed milk," I said.

"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed. "Condensed milk? That's the oddest thing
I've ever heard."

"That's what I'm getting," I said; "and it won't injure your chances
with her if you take her a pot of honey."

"But I don't know her," he submitted.

"It doesn't matter," I said; "she's the most unconventional creature
in the world--just a child of nature."

"Delicious!" he murmured.

"She's a Canadian, you see," I added.

"Oh, a Canadian," he replied, as though that explained everything.
"And, by the way, what's her name?"

"She lets me call her Winnie," I said.

"And what do I call her?" he asked.

"Well," I said, "if I were you I'd call her Winnie too. She'd love
it."

"This is extraordinarily interesting," he replied. "But you know I'm
far too shy to do a thing like that."

When, however, the time came and we were shown into Winnie's
drawing-room in Mappin T