Sir ALEC now starts another subject, and as I foresee that if he sticks to it, I have something which will cap everything, I at once question him as to something he has just uttered. He replies, but, as before, I am bothered by his reply, which seems to me utterly inconsequent. So I repeat my question. And he smiles, nods and says, "Well--yes--" doubtfully. But my question required quite a different sort of answer. It had been, "How many times did you say Lord GRANGEMORE sneezed on that occasion?" To which it is evident that a doubtful "Well--um--yes," is not a satisfactory answer. So I repeat the question, whereupon he turns towards me confidentially and says, "No, I don't think so. It was her sister he married." I look at him inquiringly to see if this is his fun, but at that moment I catch a wink from BIRLEY who is putting up his hand to his ear and intimating in the clearest possible pantomime for my private and particular benefit, that our entertaining friend Sir ALEC MCQUINCEY is uncommonly deaf! Now I comprehend BIRLEY'S silence. Now I comprehend why Sir ALEC goes on talking, and why he looks puzzled at any interruption, and why he could only smile when he got the cue, as it were, from his companion, and was made aware that there had been something said which required to be smiled at. I relapse into silence. I accept an excellent cigar from Sir ALEC, and I let him talk for the rest of the evening uninterruptedly, until he looks at his watch, says that nine-thirty is late enough for him, that he has enjoyed his evening with us amazingly, and goes off to bed. "Agreeable old chap," says BIRLEY, stretching out his legs, preparatory to taking a short stroll. "Seen a lot of life has old ALEC. He's a capital Chairman at a Board-meeting. Just deaf enough when he doesn't want to hear any arguments. I let him talk on." "So I see," I say, and we walk out to bid good-night to Mont Blanc. "The Mons looks like a warrior taking his rest--his last rest," says BIRLEY, gravely, giving me a subdued nudge. "NAPOLEON THE GREAT, and his cocked hat, carved out of white stone. Ah!" and, meditatively we linger, and then walk slowly back to the Hotel. "We'll take old ALEC to his warm bath at Evian-les-Bains to-morrow," says BIRLEY. "Good night." Then he pauses on the stairs, as with a wink full of fun, and last playful nudge, he says, "I suppose you'll let him have all the talk to himself, eh? Won't you? Ha! ha! I shall." * * *