At noon on the 20th of May he telephoned to her: "Meet me at the Plaza at four--for tea. Don't fail! Good-by!" "Wait!" she exclaimed, angrily, rebellion surging within her by reason of his dictatorial tone of voice. She had been very anxious to see him, but not at that price. He had wisely hung up the receiver, however. That compelled her to do what he had told her to do. She had something to say to him. She found him sitting at a small table in the Palm Room. Ethel Vandergilt and Reggie Van Duzen were with him. She approached him frowning, because she ran the usual gantlet of stares, and overheard the usual murmurs: "That's Grace Goodchild! Do you think she is as pretty as--" Ethel greeted her affectionately, and Reggie looked proud to be there. He was a worshipper of the dynamic H. R. But all that H. R. himself said, in his exasperatingly peremptory voice, was: "Month is up to-day. Now for the test! Tell Ethel you want some sandwiches!" Grace started slightly and realized that Ethel had not overheard H. R.--he had taken care that she should not. "No! I--I'm afraid, Hendrik," she stammered, turning pale. Women love to gamble--in their minds, when alone. "You? Afraid? Of anything?" He looked at her in pained amazement. "Look at me!" She did. "I--I'll marry you any--anyway," she said, to show it was not cowardice, but the reverse. "Play the game!" he said, sternly. Before she knew it she obeyed. She sat down limply and said: "Ethel, I w-want a s-s-sandwich!" "You poor thing! You're actually faint with hunger. Don't you want some bouillon? Waiter!" "No; I want a sandwich!" said Grace, loudly. You would have thought she had said, "_Jacta est alea!_" Ethel and Reggie heard Grace use that word. People all about them knew who she was and had proudly told their out-of-town companions all about H. R. and Grace Goodchild. They, too, heard Grace say she wanted a sandwich. Not a soul smiled! Not having seen anything about it in the newspapers for a month, New York had forgotten that H. R. had wooed Grace with sandwiches. H. R. was as famous as ever, but his fellow-citizens no longer knew why or how. The waiter took the order with unsmiling respect. Grace looked at H. R. almost with awe. He smiled reassuringly and asked her: "Aren't you going to ask Ethel?" "Ask me what?" said Ethel. Grace was silent, because she was blushing like a silly thing in public. "On the eighth of June," said H. R. "I suppose you won't mind being a--" Ethel naturally interrupted him by saying to Grace: "I'm so glad! Is it announced?" "You're the first one we've told, dear girl," H. R. declared, solemnly. "Reggie, you will give me courage at the altar?" "Will I?" chuckled Reggie, proudly, and insisted on shaking hands. H. R. rewarded him. He said: "Reggie, I'm going to let you help me in my campaign. I'm going to the Assembly in the autumn."