"I have entirely forgotten," he said. "It is unpardonably stupid of me." He turned to the cowering Philip. "Cousin Theophilus," he said, "can you recollect which leg it was that Uncle Hannibal lost?" "The right, I think," said Philip hoarsely. "Not sure, though. Don't rely on me." Tim turned to Peggy. "Cousin Geraldine?" he enquired. "The left, I believe," replied Peggy composedly. Timothy gave a perplexed smile, and turned to Miss Leslie. "We must leave it with you to decide, Aunt Keziah," he said. "What have you to say?" "Honk, honk honk!" replied Aunt Keziah wildly. Timothy rose to his feet, and smiled apologetically upon the gentlemen in frock-coats. "I fear," he said, "that there is nothing for it but to go home and look. Good-morning!" * * * * * After two hours of this sort of imbecility the troupe found itself consuming ices in Bond Street, having become possessed so far of two bath-mats and a waste-paper basket. "Now we must be serious," announced Miss Leslie, wiping her eyes. She had learned to her cost this morning that no woman is ever too old to be immune from a fit of the giggles. "Mr. Rendle, will you kindly go home?" Timothy's only reply was to dash out of the tea-shop and into an optician's on the other side of the street. Presently he returned, putting something in his pocket. "Fall in and follow me!" he commanded. "Where are we going to?" enquired Peggy, as the expedition meekly complied. "International Furniture Company," was the brisk reply. Timothy's dupes regarded one another more hopefully. "That sounds like business," said Philip. "Come along!" But Timothy's exuberance was not yet exhausted. On approaching the stately premises of the International Furniture Company he suddenly produced a pair of tinted spectacles from his pocket and put them on. Then, assuming the piping voice and humped shoulders of doddering senility, he took the scandalised Miss Leslie by the arm, and limping through the great doorway of the shop, demanded the immediate presence of the manager of the Antique Furniture Department. On the appearance of that functionary, Tim bade him a courtly good-morning, and said:-- "I desire first of all to inspect your dining-room suites. We are setting this young couple"--indicating Philip, who flushed crimson, and Peggy, who exhibited no confusion whatever--"up in a flat." The manager, a short-sighted young man with a nervous manner, after a startled inspection of the decrepit figure before him, turned upon his heel and led the way to the dining-room suites. Timothy hobbled after, leaning heavily upon Miss Leslie's arm and coughing asthmatically. "Tim, you young ass," urged Philip, hot with shame on Peggy's account, "dry up!" The relentless humourist took not the slightest notice. Instead, he addressed the back of the manager.