MR. STIP. For a physician, Madam, _not_ a photographer. If I were to take him now the result would be an--ah--enormous tongue, with a dog in the remote distance. The E. L. And he's putting out more and more of it! Perhaps he's thirsty again. Here, Fluffy, water--water! [_She produces the developing dish._ FLUFF (_in barks of unmistakable significance_). Look here, I've had about enough of this tomfoolery. Let's go. _Come_ on! MR. STIP. (_seconding the motion with relief_). I'm _afraid_ we're not likely to do better with him to-day. Perhaps if you could look in some othah afternoon? The E. L. Why, we've only been an hour and twenty minutes as yet! But what would be the best time to bring him? MR. STIP. I should say the light and the temperatuah would probably be more favourable by the week aftah next--(_to himself_) when I shall be taking my holiday! The E. L. Very well, I'll come then. Oh, Fluffy, Fluffy, what a silly little dog you are to give all this trouble! FLUFF (_to himself, as he makes a triumphant exit_). Not half so silly as some people think! I _must_ tell the cat about this; she'll go into fits! I will say she has a considerable sense of humour--for a cat. [Illustration] IN THE CAUSE OF CHARITY. _Mona House, the Town Mansion of the Marquis of Manx, which has been lent for a Sale of Work in aid of the "Fund for Super-annuated Skirt-dancers," under the patronage of Royalty and other distinguished personages_. _In the Entrance Hall._ MRS. WYLIE DEDHEAD (_attempting to insinuate herself between the barriers_). Excuse me; I only wanted to pop in for a moment, just to see if a lady friend of mine is in there, that's _all_! The LADY MONEY-TAKER (_blandly_). If you will let me know your friend's name--? MRS. W. D. (_splendide mendax_). She's assisting the dear Duchess. _Now_, perhaps, you will allow me to pass! The L. M. Afraid I can't, really. But if you mean Lady Honor Hyndlegges--_she_ is the only lady at the Duchess's stall--I could send _in_ for her. Or of course, if you like to pay half-a-crown---- MRS. W. D. (_hastily_). Thank you, I--I won't disturb her ladyship. I had no _idea_ there was any charge for admission, and--(_bristling_)--allow me to say I consider such regulations _most_ absurd. The L. M. (_sweetly, with a half glance at the bowl of coins on the table_). Quite _too_ ridiculous, ain't they? _Good_ afternoon! MRS. W. D. (_audibly, as she flounces out_). If they suppose _I'm_ going to pay half-a-crown for the privilege of being _fleeced_----! FOOTMAN (_on steps, sotto voce, to confrère_). "Fleeced"! that's a good 'un, eh? _She_ ain't brought much wool in with _her_! His CONFRÈRE. On'y what's stuffed inside of her ear. [_They resume their former impassive dignity._ _In the Venetian Gallery--where the Bazaar is being held._ A LOYAL OLD LADY (_at the top of her voice--to_ STALL-KEEPER). Which of 'em's the Princess, my dear, eh? It's her I paid _my_ money to see.