"Hello, Rodney!" says Vincent as they passes each other in the front office, one goin' out and the other comin' in. I'd never happened to see 'em meet before, and I'm some surprised that they're so well acquainted. Don't know why, either, unless it is that they're so different. Rodney, you know, is one of these light complected heavyweights, and a swell because he was born so. I was wonderin' if Rodney was one of Vincent's lawyers, or if they just belonged to the same clubs; when Mr. Kipp swings on his heel and says: "Oh, by the way, Vincent, how is grammy?" "Why!" says Vincent, "isn't she out with you and Nellie?" "No," says Rodney, "she stayed with us only for a couple of days. Nellie said she hadn't heard from her for nearly two months, and told me to ask you about her. So long. I'm due for some medicine ball work," and with that he drifts into the gym. and shuts the door. Vincent, he stands lookin' after him with a kind of worried look on his face that was comical to see on such a cocksure chap as him. "Lost somebody, have you?" says I. "Why--er--I don't know," says Vincent, runnin' his fingers through the bristles that waves above his noble brow. "It's grandmother. I can't imagine where she can be." "You must have grandmothers to burn," says I, "if they're so plenty with you that you can mislay one now and then without missin' her." "Eh?" says he. "No, no! She is really my mother, you know. I've got into the way of calling her grammy only during the last three or four years." "Oh, I see!" says I. "The grandmother habit is something she's contracted comparative recent, eh? Ain't gone to her head, has it?" Vincent couldn't say; but by the time he's quit tryin' to explain what has happened I've got the whole story. First off he points out that Rodney Kipp, havin' married his sister Nellie, is his brother-in-law, and, as they both have a couple of youngsters, it makes Vincent's mother a grammy in both families. "Sure," says I. "I know how that works out. She stays part of the time with you, and makes herself mighty popular with your kids; then she takes her trunk over to Rodney's and goes through the same performance there. And when she goes visitin' other places there's a great howl all round. That's it, ain't it?" It wa'n't, not within a mile, and I'd showed up my low, common breedin' by suggesting such a thing. As gently as he could without hurtin' my feelin's too much, Vincent explains that while my programme might be strictly camel's foot for ordinary people, the domestic arrangements of the upper classes was run on different lines. For instance, his little Algernon Chetwood could speak nothing but French, that bein' the brand of governess he'd always had, and so he naturally couldn't be very thick with a grandmother that didn't understand a word of his lingo. "Besides," says Vincent, "mother and my wife, I regret to say, have never found each other very congenial."