“If he hadn’t also shined up to Mrs Everett, the rival faction.” Richard went on, with open relish of his aunt’s discomfiture. “Hush, Richard!” she said, again, and this time some veiled hint apparently was efficacious, for he changed the subject. “I say, Uncle Herb, what about the Follies to-night? I’ve got a couple of seats,—and I know your tastes——” “Front row?” “No; couldn’t corral those,—but good ones, in the fourth.” “Nay, nay, Pauline. I don’t see well enough to sit so far back. Use those yourself, Richard,—take your aunt, here! But I’ll find a seat in the front row,—in some front row, if I have to buy their bloomin’ theater to get it!” “Good for you, Sir Herbert!” exclaimed Miss Prall, who admired determination wherever she met it. “I’ll go with _you_. I like the front row, too.” “Sorry, madam, but I’m not taking guests.” He winked at Richard. “Naturally not,” Miss Letitia sniffed. “I know why you want to go alone,—I know why you want the front row! You’re going to attract a chorus girl, and invite her to supper with you.” “Marvelous, Holmes, marvelous!” Sir Herbert exclaimed, with mock amazement. “I am surprised at your clairvoyance, ma’am, but deeply pained that you should know of and be so familiar with such goings on. Do you learn of that sort of thing from your nephew? Really, Richard, I’m amazed at you!” “Nonsense, Uncle Bin, I passed through that stage long ago. I used to girl around in my callow days, but I got fed up with it, and now life holds more worthwhile temptations. It’s an old story to auntie, too. Why she used to chaperon my giddiest parties,—bless her!” Sir Herbert’s sharp eyes looked from one of his companions to the other. “You’re a pair,” he opined, “both tarred with the same brush.” “And the brush?” asked Miss Prall, belligerently. “Modern sophistication and the present-day fad of belittling everything that is interesting or pleasurable.” “That mental phase is the inevitable result of worldly experience,” said the lady, with a cynical smile. “How is it that you preserve such youthful interest?” “Well—” and the Englishman looked a little quizzical, “you see, the girls are still young.” “Very young,” assented Bates, gravely. “There’s a new bunch of Squabs at the Gaynight Revue that’ll do you up! Better buy that place out, Unkie!” “Perhaps; but now, young Richard, let’s discuss some more imminent, if not more important, questions. Say, Buns, for instance.” “Nothing doing. I’ve said my last word on the Bun subject, and if you persist in recurring to it, you’ll only get that last word over again,—repeated, reiterated, recapitulated and,—if necessary,—reënforced!” “With some good, strong epithets, I suppose,” remarked his uncle, calmly. “I don’t blame you, Rick, for being bored by my persistency, but you see I haven’t yet given up all hope of making you see reason. Why I do——” “Well, when you do—what?”