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any special preparation." "It may be difficult," said Mrs. Plinth with decision, "but it is necessary. I know what that happy-go-lucky principle leads to. As I told one of my nieces the other day, there are certain emergencies for which a lady should always be prepared. It's in shocking taste to wear colours when one pays a visit of condolence, or a last year's dress when there are reports that one's husband is on the wrong side of the market; and so it is with conversation. All I ask is that I should know beforehand what is to be talked about; then I feel sure of being able to say the proper thing." "I quite agree with you," Mrs. Ballinger assented; "but—" And at that instant, heralded by the fluttered parlour-maid, Osric Dane appeared upon the threshold. Mrs. Leveret told her sister afterward that she had known at a glance what was coming. She saw that Osric Dane was not going to meet them half way. That distinguished personage had indeed entered with an air of compulsion not calculated to promote the easy exercise of hospital- ity. She looked as though she were about to be photo- graphed for a new edition of her books. The desire to propitiate a divinity is generally in inverse ratio to its responsiveness, and the sense of discour- agement produced by Osric Dane's entrance visibly in- creased the Lunch Club's eagerness to please her. Any lingering idea that she might consider herself under an obligation to her entertainers was at once dispelled by her manner: as Mrs. Leveret said afterward to her sister, she had a way of looking at you that made you feel as if HYLAND