homelike."     

       "Mrs. Blithers has been planning to come over for some time, Mrs. King. I told her she oughtn't to put it off—be neighbourly, don't you know. That's me. I'm for being neighbourly with my neighbours. But women, they—well, you know how it is, Mrs. King. Always something turning up to keep 'em from doing the things they want to do most. And Mrs. Blithers has so many sociable obli—I beg pardon?"     

       "I was just wondering if you would stay and have dinner with us, Mr. Blithers," said she, utterly helpless. She wouldn't look her husband in the eye—and it was quite fortunate that she was unable to do so, for it would have resulted in a laughing duet that could never have been explained.     

       "Why," said Mr. Blithers, arising and looking at his watch again, "bless my soul, it is past dinner time, isn't it? I had no idea it was so late. 'Pon my soul, it's good of you, Mrs. King. You see, we have dinner at seven up at Blitherwood and—I declare it's half-past now. I don't see where the time has gone. Thanks, I will stay if you really mean to be kind to a poor old beggar. Don't do anything extra on my account, though, just your regular dinner, you know. No frills, if you please." He looked himself over in some uncertainty. "Will this rag of mine do?"     

       "We shan't notice it, Mr. Blithers," said she, and he turned the remark over in his mind several times as he walked beside her toward the house. Somehow it didn't sound just right to him, but for the life of him he couldn't tell why. "We are quite simple folk, you see," she went on desperately, making note of the fact that her husband lagged behind like the coward he was. "Red Roof is as nothing compared to Blitherwood, with its army of servants and—"     

       Mr. Blithers magnanimously said "Pooh!" and, continuing, remarked that he wouldn't say exactly how many they employed but he was sure there were not more than forty, including the gardeners. "Besides," he added gallantly,       "what is an army of servants compared to the army of Grasstock? You've got the real article, Mrs. King, so don't you worry. But, I say, if necessary, I can telephone up to the house and have a dress suit sent down. It won't take fifteen minutes, Lou—er—Mrs. Blithers always has 'em laid out for me, in case of an emergency, and—"     

       "Pray do not think of it," she cried. 

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