The evening of Wednesday passed off quietly. Joyce looked very cheerful and didn't say a word about the silver, so I felt sure she hadn't missed it. Uncle Henry had called, she said, and wanted us both to go and dine with him at the Fitz on Saturday night, and she had accepted. "Good," I said. I suppose I looked very cheerful because Joyce said-- "Your scheme's come off, I suppose?" "Oh, yes," I said, "it's come off--er--quite well. How's yours?" "Mine was quite successful, thank you, and I shall get a new frock for dinner on Saturday." As I didn't want to give my scheme away just then, I didn't press Joyce to reveal hers, and we retired for the night with honours easy. When I got home on Thursday from a day in town, Joyce met me at the gate. She looked scared. "We've had a burglar," she said. "The silver's gone. Oh, why didn't I take the warning?" This was my big scene, but I never believe in rushing a good climax, so I simply said-- "The silver gone? Dear, dear. A burglar, did you say? I told you they were about." "Really, I'm not joking," said Joyce. "Both Jessie and I were out this afternoon and he must have got in by the scullery window, which I'm afraid was unlatched." I was enjoying her consternation immensely. "A burglar?" I repeated. "How very interesting!" "Oh," said Joyce, stamping her foot, "can't you _do_ something?" "My dear Joyce," I said, fixing her with my eleven-stone look, "let us stop this mummery. Behold the burglar!" and I struck the attitude that I thought would have done credit to Sir HERBERT. "You!" she said; "but----" "Yes," I said. "Alone I did it. Aren't you glad? Come, do look glad and ring down the curtain. The play is over." "But that was on Wednesday." "Yes," I said, "it was. On Wednesday, at ten o'clock of the forenoon." "Well, on Wednesday after lunch, I wanted an envelope and at last found one in your writing-case. I also found a ticket." "Then you knew all the time?" "Listen," said Joyce. "Uncle Henry called----" "And asked us to dinner--good egg!" "Well, I borrowed L25 from him and took the silver out of pawn." * * * * * THE HOSPITABLE DOOR. [_A housewife in a contemporary says_:--"If my guests have friends in the neighbourhood they can ask them in without consulting my convenience at all, take them up to the bedroom, light the gasfire and make them quite comfortable there."] Dear Tom, when your neighbours invited me first, I made up mind to refuse, But that was before I was properly versed In the up-to-date hostess's views. If I (like ACHILLES) remain in my room, She'll never give vent to complaining. Though she misses my jests, she will kindly presume I am nevertheless entertaining.