orderly arrangement of thin strands clinging decorously to his skull that now so nicely topped his formally correct turn-out. His mouth, exposed by a carefully trimmed moustache, was shown to be large though thin-lipped; but this niggardly cut of his lips gave no indication of a meanness of temperament but rather hinted at so profound an understanding of himself that, for the sake of an inherited taste in the affairs of life, Mr. Tillinghast had early set about getting the better of errant fancies. In his presence certain topics were avoided. No one asked for his address. It took all of his scant means to keep himself going at the Knickerbocker Club. It would never have occurred to him to give up a club that he might be said to have inherited in order to be more comfortable in the small matter of where to live. None knew how, and few knew where, he lived. Actually, as I had discovered by accident, he resided in the East Thirties, in one of the flats evolved from the shell of his forefathers’ fine old house. Bending at his admirable waist, he imprinted a kiss on my hand; and this kiss was sadly pleasant in its aroma of a bygone day. Miss Augusta’s voice rolled over us, massing us into an audience; Miss Lois spattered a gaiety that was powerless to stem the flow of such inevitability as that of her sister’s militant uplift; Mr. Tillinghast maintained his seat, however precariously, in the saddle of his balanced friendship. Between tea drinking and the anesthesia of Miss Augusta’s phrases I felt myself to be neatly suspended. “Brains directed to a worthy end--personalities turned into the service of our country----” Miss Augusta’s gobblets of profundity was lavished on us. “Do you realize that in every case of a President of the United States being assassinated, it was inspired by the Pope?” Miss Lois giggled. “My goodness, Gussie, are you going to tack that on to the poor old gentleman?” “I refer,” said Miss Augusta, “to the Pope at Rome.” “I didn’t know there was another one,” gurgled Miss Lois with great enjoyment. “Ho! Ho!” came suddenly from Mr. Tillinghast, who then looked ashamed of himself. Miss Augusta could not be said to recover herself, for she had not for a moment lost herself. “Shall we get down to the business that brought us together today?” she enquired. Surreptitiously wiping his eyes, Mr. Tillinghast smiled attenuatedly: one would have thought that never had he laughed aloud, because never had anything amused him. “Business? With three fair ladies?” I said: “It seems we’ve got to get it over with.” “Quite right,” approved Miss Augusta, waving her handsome white hand. “We will now come to the point.” Miss Lois said surprisingly: “Gussie, you always do talk too much.” Accentuating her parliamentary pose, Miss Augusta endeavoured to stare down her younger sister. “I should think, Sister Lois, that what concerns so intimate a friend as Lavinia Van Suydam concerns us in only a slightly less degree.”