Of course, at the time I did not know what was meant. She ordered thin soup, a grilled sole, and cutlets au gratin. It certainly couldn't have been the dinner. With regard to the champagne, he would have his own way. I picked him out a dry '94, that you might have weaned a baby on. I suppose it was the whole thing combined. It was after the sole that I heard Mr. Parable laugh. I could hardly credit my ears, but half-way through the cutlets he did it again. There are two kinds of women. There is the woman who, the more she eats and drinks, the stodgier she gets, and the woman who lights up after it. I suggested a peche Melba between them, and when I returned with it, Mr. Parable was sitting with his elbows on the table gazing across at her with an expression that I can only describe as quite human. It was when I brought the coffee that he turned to me and asked: "What's doing? Nothing stuffy," he added. "Is there an Exhibition anywhere--something in the open air?" "You are forgetting Miss Clebb," the lady reminded him. "For two pins," said Mr. Parable, "I would get up at the meeting and tell Miss Clebb what I really think about her." I suggested the Earl's Court Exhibition, little thinking at the time what it was going to lead to; but the lady at first wouldn't hear of it, and the party at the next table calling for their bill (they had asked for it once or twice before, when I came to think of it), I had to go across to them. When I got back the argument had just concluded, and the lady was holding up her finger. "On condition that we leave at half-past nine, and that you go straight to Caxton Hall," she said. "We'll see about it," said Mr. Parable, and offered me half a crown. Tips being against the rules, I couldn't take it. Besides, one of the jumpers had his eye on me. I explained to him, jocosely, that I was doing it for a bet. He was surprised when I handed him his hat, but, the lady whispering to him, he remembered himself in time. As they went out together I heard Mr. Parable say to the lady: "It's funny what a shocking memory I have for names." To which the lady replied: "You'll think it funnier still to-morrow." And then she laughed. Mr. Horton thought he would know the lady again. He puts down her age at about twenty-six, describing her--to use his own piquant expression--as "a bit of all right." She had brown eyes and a taking way with her. * * * Miss Ida Jenks, in charge of the Eastern Cigarette Kiosk at the Earl's Court Exhibition, gives the following particulars: From where I generally stand I can easily command a view of the interior of the Victoria Hall; that is, of course, to say when the doors are open, as on a warm night is usually the case.