I'll pick you up and carry you out and straight to your grandmother." "Yes you would--make a scene." "The scene could hardly be improved. Will you go?" He half rose. Even Madame Zattiany glanced at him apprehensively. Miss Oglethorpe laughed uncertainly. "Oh, very well. At least we never furnish material for your newspapers. That's just one thing we think beneath us." She rose and extended her hand. "Good night, Madame Zattiany," she said with a really comical assumption of the grand manner. "It has been a great pleasure to meet you." Madame Zattiany took the proffered hand. "Good night," she said sweetly. "Your little comedy has been most amusing. Many thanks." Miss Oglethorpe jerked her shoulders. "Well, console dear unky. He'd like the floor to open and swallow him. Ta! Ta!" She ran back to her table, and its hilarity was shortly augmented. Madame Zattiany looked at Clavering aghast. "But it is worse than I supposed!" she exclaimed. "It is really a tragedy. Poor Mrs. Oglethorpe." Then she laughed, silently but with intense amusement. "I wish she had been here! After all! . . . Nevertheless, it is a tragedy. An Oglethorpe! A mere child intoxicated . . . and truly atrocious manners. Why don't her people put her in a sanitarium?" "Parents count about as much today as women counted in the cave era. But it is abominable that you should be made conspicuous." "Oh, that! I have been conspicuous all my life. And you must admit that she had the centre of the stage! If any one is to be commiserated, it is you. But you really behaved admira