“‘Gid-up’!” Again the lady almost had a paroxysm, but whether or not of mirth, who shall say. “Gee-gee and Gid-up!” Her broad bosom rose and fell. “Telegram, sir!” At that moment Bob heard another voice at his elbow. Across the table the man with the monocle was gazing at him curiously. CHAPTER VII—VARYING VICISSITUDES A footman had brought the message, which Bob now took and opened mechanically. It was from the commodore. “For heaven’s sake,” it ran, “return at once to New York Will explain.” Bob eyed it gloomily. The commodore must have been considerably rattled when he had sent that. “Any answer, sir?” said the footman. Bob shook his head. What could he answer? He couldn’t run away now; the commodore ought to know that. Of all fool telegrams!— “A business message, I suppose?” purred the lady at his side. “I trust it is nothing very important, to call you away?” “No, I shouldn’t call it important,” said Bob. “Quite unnecessary, I should call it.” He crumpled up the message and thrust it into his pocket. At that moment one of Mrs. Ralston’s paid performers—a high-class monologist—began to earn his fee. He was quite funny and soon had every one laughing. Bob strove to forget his troubles and laugh too. Mrs. Dan couldn’t very well talk to him now, and relieved from that lady’s pertinent prattle, he gradually let that “dull-care grip” slip from his resistless fingers. Welcoming the mocking goddess of the cap and bells, he yielded to the infectious humor and before long forgot the telegram and everything save that crop of near-new stories. But when the dinner was finally over, he found himself, again wrapped in deep gloom, wandering alone on the broad balcony. He didn’t just know how he came to be out there all alone—whether he drifted away from people or whether they drifted away from him. Anyhow he wasn’t burdened with any one’s company. He entertained a vague recollection that several people had turned their backs on him. So if he was forced to lead a hermit’s life it wasn’t his fault. Probably old Diogenes hadn’t _wanted_ to live in that tub; people had made him. They wouldn’t stand him in a house. There wasn’t room for him and any one else in the biggest house ever built. So the only place where truth could find that real, cozy, homey feeling was _alone_ in a tub. And things weren’t any better to-day. Nice commentary on our boasted “advanced civilization!”