ors and actresses, that once
a year we are invited to dine at the Mansion House?"

"Has she never heard of the aristocracy of genius?" demanded Alexander
the Poet.

"The explanation may be that possibly she has seen it," feared the Wee
Laddie.

"One of us ought to waylay the woman," argued the Babe--"insist upon her
talking to him for ten minutes. I've half a mind to do it myself."

Jack Herring said nothing--seemed thoughtful.

The next morning Jack Herring, still thoughtful, called at the editorial
offices of _Good Humour_, in Crane Court, and borrowed Miss Ramsbotham's
Debrett. Three days later Jack Herring informed the Club casually that
he had dined the night before with Mr. and Mrs. Loveredge. The Club gave
Jack Herring politely to understand that they regarded him as a liar, and
proceeded to demand particulars.

"If I wasn't there," explained Jack Herring, with unanswerable logic,
"how can I tell you anything about it?"

This annoyed the Club, whose curiosity had been whetted. Three members,
acting in the interests of the whole, solemnly undertook to believe
whatever he might tell them. But Jack Herring's feelings had been
wounded.

"When gentlemen cast a doubt upon another gentleman's veracity--"

"We didn't cast a doubt," explained Somerville the Briefless. "We merely
said that we personally did not believe you. We didn't say we couldn't
believe you; it is a case for individual effort. If you give us
particulars bearing the impress of reality, supported by details that do
not unduly contradict each other, we are prepared to put aside our
natural suspicions and face the possibility of your statement being
correct."

"It was foolish of me," said Jack Herring. "I thought perhaps it would
amuse you to hear what sort of a woman Mrs. Loveredge was like--some
description of Mrs. Loveredge's uncle. Miss Montgomery, friend of Mrs.
Loveredge, is certainly one of the most remarkable women I have ever met.
Of course, that isn't her real name. But, as I have said, it was foolish
of me. These people--you will never meet them, you will never see them;
of what interest can they be to you?"

"They had forgotten to draw down the blinds, and he climbed up a lamp-
post and looked through the window," was the solution of the problem put
forward by the Wee Laddie.

"I'm dining there again on Saturday," volunteered Jack Herring. "If any
of you will promise not to make a disturbance, you can hang about on t