"Oh, I think we will be toddling, thanks. Are you coming with us, Saidie?"     

       "No, I'm not," returned that young woman, sturdily. "Since this house is the joint property of Dr. John Chetwynd and his wife, I reckon I shall stop awhile. Bella, you are not going to turn me out, are you?"     

       "Not I. I can't imagine what Jack means by behaving so inhospitably. I hope you will all stop."     

       But Mr. Doss, exceedingly affronted at the slight offered him, had tucked his wife's arm under his own and was already at the door.     

       "Good night, gents. My best respects to you, Mrs. Chetwynd, but we knows who wants us and who doesn't."     

       Bella turned indignantly to her husband. "And you call yourself a gentleman!" she cried.     

       "For heaven's sake remember we are not alone!" whispered Chetwynd in distress, "you have distinguished yourself quite enough."     

       "I don't care—you have insulted my friends."     

       "Friends!"     

       "Yes, and as good as you or I. What did you marry me for if you are ashamed of my connections?"     

       "I did not marry the whole variety stage."     

       At this juncture Meynell rose.     

       "Awfully sorry, but I must be going old chap, promised to look in again at the club." And Chetwynd did not press him to stay. Humiliated to the last degree, he followed him downstairs.     

       "I have given you a very enjoyable evening, Meynell," he said bitterly.     

       "My dear fellow, what ought I to say?"     

       "I'm damned if I know; I've never visited a friend who made such a marriage as mine. I should have pitied the poor devil profoundly if I had. Good night, old chap."     

       The hall door shut, and Chetwynd went slowly, sorrowfully back to the drawing-room.     

       "I hope you have disgraced me enough to-night," he said stormily.     

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