When the great day arrived he felt as though some invisible being were pouring quarts of ice-water down his spine. He had already made himself acquainted with "Enquire Within," and found that Claude's mother should be addressed as "Lady Featherstone"; but the question of Angela caused him anxious moments. He thought "Honorable Miss" sounded a little too Japanese. He tackled Claude on this delicate problem. "Oh, call her anything," said that worthy. "What do you say to 'Angy'?" Jim didn't feel like jesting on so serious a subject. He decided that in Angela's case he would drop the ceremonial form, and call her Miss Featherstone. The memory of that evening is destined to live as long as the body of James Conlan inhabits this mortal coil. When he gave the servant his hat and stick and the footman his card, and heard that powdered monstrosity bawl "Mr. James Conlan" to a room filled with shimmering gowns and glistening shirt-fronts, Jim's flesh went cold. But the vigilant Claude helped him through. Claude was like a streak of greased lightning, bouncing Jim here and there to be introduced to a hundred and one people, leaving our hero a nervous wreck. Featherstone and his wife acted in the most courteous fashion, her Ladyship having been coerced into accepting the inevitable with as good a grace as possible. Featherstone himself was instantly impressed by this muscular giant, who looked like an enlarged statue of Phoebus Apollo. He adjusted his monocle to get a fuller view. "Claude has spoken a good deal about you, Mr. Conlan," he drawled. "It is a pleasure to meet you here." Jim, scarcely trusting his voice, carried out a bow, at which much practice had been put in. "Say, kid, how did I do that?" he whispered. "Fine!" said Claude. They found Angela strolling with a girl friend in the conservatory, which was gayly illuminated with Chinese lanterns. They turned at the sound of footsteps. Angela wore a dress of deep mauve, against which her pale Grecian face and her exquisite neck shone with enhanced beauty. The other girl was literally outshone by her beautiful companion. Jim felt a hot wave run through him. Never in his life had he seen anything so amazingly beautiful as Angela. He heard Claude's introduction, and bowed automatically. Then Claude did the most outrageous thing: he took the arm of Angela's companion and tripped away with her. Jim was horrified. He looked round seeking for some way of escape, but there was none. Angela's face relaxed in a cold smile as she realized the terrible nervousness of this big uncouth man. It pleased her somewhat to feel that she was the cause of it. "You are a member of my brother's club, aren't you?" she asked. "Yep--yes," he stuttered. He wondered if he ought to offer his arm as Claude had done to the other girl, and escort her back to the house; but he dare not. There was a seat near by. Angela sank into it. "Won't you sit down?" she asked.