And then, in the very midst of the hubbub, Miss Addams's surprise was upon them. A Belgian waiter stood in one of the doorways. He held himself more erect than usual against the wall; save that the tips of his fingers were turned in to prevent his too loose cuffs from falling too far down, his attitude would have been that of perfect "attention." "Mis-tairr----Ooell-come!" he announced. A shout went up that stirred the dust on the chandeliers. Stout, red-faced, rubbing his hands, and (in flat violation of Miss Addams's rule) puffing a gigantic cigar, Mr. Wellcome himself stood in the doorway, frowning humorously on the group that twisted with laughter about Mrs. Deschamps. "Now, now, now, now, now--what's all this about?" Mr. Wellcome cried with mock severity. Acclamations broke forth. "Wellcome, by Jove!" cried Mr. Rainbow, in a sort of glad consternation. "Bravo!" shouted Mr. Geake. "It's old Wellcome!" "Come in out o' the wet!" "Welcome, Wellcome!" "Hooray!" Mr. Wellcome came in, crossed straight to Miss Addams, kissed her without a moment's hesitation (only remarking, "When the cat's away--eh?"), slapped his hands loudly together, and then, turning his head half a dozen times this way and that, cried, "Well, and how are we all, eh?" They cheered him again. "And now where's Massey and the blushing one?" Mr. Wellcome demanded; and when he had found them and shaken hands with them he almost doubled the scholastic stationer in two with the blow he gave him between the shoulder-blades. He gave a "Ha, ha, ha!" of amazing volume. "Done it now, my boy!" he cried. "Nasty things, actions for Breach! Twopence on the bus from High Street to the Broadway now! Well, well, we all do it, even the flies on the sugar-basin! Congrats, congrats.--Now, Mrs. Deschamps! Damme, I must have a kiss from you too, if it was only for the sake of old times!--Where's Mrs. W----? Tut-tut, _you_ ought to know better than to ask; ask Massey, he knows--or he will one of these days!... Well, now we're all here let's get on with the Prayer Meeting. _Phtt!_" Mr. Wellcome whistled and snapped his fingers to the waiter at the door. For Mr. Wellcome never came empty-handed. The Belgian waiter approached with a tray, and it was now discovered that another tray chock-full of jingling glasses stood outside. Mr. Wellcome travelled for Perclay Barkins & Co., and knew butlers and wine-tasters and cellarmen and head-waiters, and was to be relied on for valuable information about vintages and bottling and tobacco-crops.--"Stand there, Whiskerino, by Miss Addams," he commanded the waiter; and from the tray he began to toss into Miss Addams's lap a number of articles.