_Mrs. Somebody._ Well, I am pleased you have come at last, as I wanted you to notice that, although you have a slightly better address, my drawing-room is far larger than your own. _Mrs. Caller._ You are most kind to say so; and I may add that we should not have dreamed to come to this out-of-the-way part of the world had we not wished to purchase some cheap carpets in the neighbourhood. _Miss Caller._ I suppose your extremely plain daughter ARAMINTA is away from home; she seldom contrives to hit it off with her mother. _Mrs. Somebody._ You have guessed rightly; but I may say that she is staying at Lady DASHAWAY'S place in the country. I mention the fact casually, although I am glad to get in a title somehow in the course of my conversation. _Mrs. Caller._ If you are obliging enough to give me the opportunity, I will get in a dozen persons with handles to their names. You will pardon the vulgarity? _Mrs. Somebody._ Most certainly, as knowing that your father was a bootmaker in a large way, and your mother the daughter of a milliner, nothing else could be reasonably expected. _Mrs. Caller._ Aware that you may know something of my immediate ancestry, I will leave no stone unturned to find an opening for some reference to my uncle the curate. _Miss Caller._ Being glad to add on every conceivable occasion to the list of my partners at any promiscuous charity ball that I may patronise with my presence, I will ask after your eldest unmarried son? _Mrs. Somebody._ I thank you, my dear child, but as I intend him to look rather higher than yourself for a matrimonial alliance, I will meet your politic inquiry with a pailful of polite cold water. _Mrs. Caller._ Having now consumed the regulation cup of cold weak tea and section of luke-warm muffin, I will say good-bye, and take my departure. But before leaving I will make special reference to my brougham. _Miss Caller._ And I will add my _adieux_, after giving a good long look at your hair, which seems to require attention at the roots. _Mrs. Somebody._ I will warmly speed your parting, reflecting the while, as a sop to my wounded feelings, that you are both looking dreadfully old, and that your conveyance is merely a hired brougham. No doubt your stay would have been longer if the charge per hour had been what your vulgarian of a husband and father (who, thank goodness, has _not_ called) would term "easier." * * * * * [Illustration: ASSOCIATION V. RUGBY. _She plaintively--to famous Rugby half-back_). "_WOULD_ IT GET YOU VERY MUCH OUT OF PRACTICE IF WE WERE TO DANCE 'SOCKER' A LITTLE?"] * * * * * "SHAKY!" _The McRosebery loquitur:_--