"I've just been to your flat," said Mr. Hamshaw. "Indeed! Any one at home?" "I don't know--that is, I didn't go in. You see--are you going home now, Gladding, or downtown?" "Home, of course. I've been downtown all day. Anything you wanted to see me about, Mr. Hamshaw?" "Oh, no--nothing important." "Well, won't you come up with me now? By the way, I'd like you to meet my wife and her daughters." "I know your daughters, I believe." "Ah!" "It is about one of them that I wish to speak with you, sir." They were on the second-floor landing by this time. "May I come in?" "Certainly," said Mr. Gladding. Mr. Hamshaw sat stiff and uncomfortable on the divan while Mr. Gladding rang for a maid. He also called down the hall to ask Mrs. Gladding and the young ladies to come in and greet Mr. Hamshaw. "Before they come," began the latter, fidgeting nervously, "I want to say that I expect to marry Miss Frost. It's been hard work to choose between them--" "What are you talking about?" gasped the father. "I know I've done a most reprehensible thing in courting them--I mean her--in this manner, but, you see--" At this juncture Mrs. Gladding entered the room, followed by two strange young women--sleepy, tired, scrawny young women, who looked at Mr. Hamshaw as if he were a sofa-cushion and nothing more. "My wife--er--Mr. Hamshaw, and the Misses Frost," mumbled Mr. Gladding, bowled over completely. "What's that?" shouted Mr. Hamshaw, coming to his feet and toppling over backward again. The others stared at him as if he were mad. "How--how many have you--I mean, how many daughters are there?" "Two!" exclaimed Mrs. Gladding, freezing up immediately. The society young women relaxed into a giggle. "Then--who--is this a joke?" gasped Mr. Hamshaw, perspiration starting in torrents. "What do you mean, sir?" demanded Mr. Gladding. "Where are Marie and Louise?" murmured Mr. Hamshaw. Just then a trim maid appeared in the doorway--white-capped and aproned. "Did you ring, Ma'am?--Good Heavens!" It was Marie! Mr. Hamshaw fainted without more ado, and the apartment was in an uproar. Everybody thought he was dead, and the Misses Frost promptly duplicated his swooning act. When Mr. Hamshaw opened his eyes, Marie was standing near by with ammonia and wet towels. "Where is Louise?" he asked weakly. "She's went and married that awful little Jap of yours last night. Here, take another sniff at this. Go on; don't be afraid of it. I've give it to the young ladies regular for the last five years. What's that, sir?" "Nothing--nothing," he whispered. "You said something, sir." "And you're not Miss Frost?" "One of them scrawny--I beg pardon, sir! Did you think I was--" "Well, if that's the case, I can tell you what I said a moment ago. I said 'D--n it all!' Where am I?" "At Mr. Gladding's, sir." "Is Sago upstairs?" "No, sir; they've gone to the matinee on their wedding trip, Mr. Hamshaw." "Oh!" It was not what Mr. Hamshaw said but the way he said it.