Last night my friend gave a dinner in honor of her sister, and followed it with a marvellous musicale. The parade to the dining-room was led by Radigan with Mrs. Plumstone Smith on his wrong arm, while Mrs. Radigan, with the happy young man's father, acted as rear-guard, thus signifying the union of two great families. J. Madison Mudison, the smartest and clubiest member of the opposing faction, took in Miss Veal, while, as an artfully arranged contrast, Miss Bumpschus fell to Plumstone Smith, who was allowed, however, to sit next his fiancée. I am learning. By shuffling up the cards in the dressing-room I secured for myself the beautiful Marian Speechless, throwing Bertie Bumpschus between Constance Wherry and the Countess Poglioso Spinnigini, who cannot speak English. To avoid confusion, Bertie had to take my place at the table, for I was in his chair first, delightfully fixed with Mrs. Bobbie Q. Williegilt on my left. He glared at me in silence through the four courses, and then the champagne came to his aid and he began to engage the Countess in a voluble conversation. Miss Speechless was a delightful change from Miss Wherry, with her ideas, and Miss Bumpschus, with her charities. She rattled on and on at me without any regard for what I was saying to her, which always makes conversation easy. I have not the remotest idea what she said. She laughed a good deal, and threw in lots of color occasionally for no reason at all, and as she is very pretty, I set her down as charming. She is a human phonograph and seems to talk out what at some other time another has talked into her. But she must change the records often, else she would never be such a great belle. When she turned to Count Poglioso Spinnigini, I found on my other hand Mrs. Williegilt, as interested as ever in carbureters, bridge, and glanders. The dinner was a huge success. The twenty-four at the table, with the possible exception of Bertie Bumpschus, were in fine fettle, and as I glanced at the illustrious company, picking lackadaisically at course after course of the Radigan bounty, I felt that my friend had no need to give a donkey-dinner at Newport to make herself secure. Madison Mudison toasted Miss Veal in a few charming words. He envied his young cousin. Too late in life he was coming to the realization that love in a cottage was better than bachelorhood in a dozen clubs. Were he young again, he would search the world to find another like Pearl Veal, were that possible. Radigan expressed his delight in having Plumstone Smith as a brother-in-law. If anyone had asked him a month ago what man in all the world he would choose for his dear little sister he would have said "Plumstone Smith." This caused Plumstone to declare that he considered himself a devilish lucky fellow; Miss Veal was a devilish lucky girl; they were all devilish lucky. Miss Veal smiled radiantly. I caught Mrs. Radigan's eye and thought of the duke to come.