Presently Mrs. Walters, very red and important, beckoned Gerald out of the room to discuss with him the subject of chairs; for, beside the two miscalled easy-chairs, there were but two others in the boys’ sitting-room, and under no circumstances could the landlady of the Baker Street rooms be induced to lend any of the gold and crimson furniture of the "first-floor front." She always said it would be "robbing Peter to pay Paul," but it was natural that her tenants should not see the connection, or, seeing, bring themselves to regard the matter in that light. This evening she was willing to make a great concession. Mr. Gerald might have the music-stool from the "first-floor front." It was against her rules, as he knew, but the company must be seated somehow, and the music-stool did not belong to a suite, so that it could be replaced readily, should any mischance overtake it. The boys were, of course, at liberty to use their bedroom chairs as they pleased; so that when the guests were finally seated, Mr. Desborough and Mr. Hamilton occupied the two chairs of the sitting-room; Paul Charteris was accommodated with the cane chair from Gerald’s bedroom, its somewhat low stature being at once remedied and rendered easy by a pillow; Hugh was perched upon the music-stool, whilst Gerald and Teddie affably dispensed hospitality, seated side by side on the sofa, which had been drawn up for that occasion. "I am awfully sorry," Gerald said, "there is nothing much to offer in the way of drink." He glanced apologetically at the little sideboard, where bottled beer, whisky, and syphons of soda-water were arranged. Uncle Percival cleared his throat. "I—er—took the liberty," he said—and he glanced deprecatingly at Teddie—"I took the liberty—I hope an old uncle may be excused—of bringing some wine with me. My servant is still below, if you like him to bring up some sherry for the soup." "Uncle Percival, you are a brick!" Hugh exclaimed, whilst Teddie gave his august relative an approving nod. Thomas answered the bell, with decanter and glasses. A well-trained servant was he; for nothing could exceed his grave and deferential respect as his eyes lighted upon his master, seated upon the left hand—for Hugh was the guest of the evening—of the two flushed and eager young hosts upon the sofa. Yet the scene must of a surety have put a severe strain upon the risible muscles of any human being, necessitating a strong curb upon his sense of humour. Burgundy was handed round with the joint, and presently a suggestive "pop" from the region of the sideboard brought Mr. Desborough’s eyes to meet Teddie’s guiltily. "Uncle, you are a trump," declared Teddie, slapping his uncle upon the shoulder. Gerald rose and, leaning over Teddie, solemnly and in silence gripped his uncle’s hand.