“I dare say Ruggles and I can be depended upon to decide a minor matter like that,” he said. The ladies both broke in at this, rather sputteringly, but Cousin Egbert silenced them. “Shake dice for him,” he said--“poker dice, three throws, aces low.” “How shockingly vulgar!” hissed Mrs. Belknap-Jackson. “Even if there were no other reason for his coming to us,” remarked her husband coldly, “there are certain unfortunate associations which ought to make his entertainment here quite impossible.” “If you’re calling me ‘unfortunate associations,’” remarked Cousin Egbert, “you want to get it out of your head right off. I don’t mind telling you, the Judge and I get along fine together. I told him when I was in Paris and Europe to look me up the first thing if ever he come here, and he said he sure would. The Judge is some mixer, believe me!” “The ‘Judge’!” echoed the Belknap-Jacksons in deep disgust. “You come right down to it--I bet a cookie he stays just where I tell him to stay,” insisted Cousin Egbert. The evident conviction of his tone alarmed his hearers, who regarded each other with pained speculation. “Right where I tell him to stay and no place else,” insisted Cousin Egbert, sensing the impression he had made. “But this is too monstrous!” said Mr. Jackson, regarding me imploringly. “The Honourable George,” I admitted, “has been known to do unexpected things, and there have been times when he was not as sensitive as I could wish to the demands of his caste----” “Bill is stalling--he knows darned well the Judge is a mixer,” broke in Cousin Egbert, somewhat to my embarrassment, nor did any reply occur to me. There was a moment’s awkward silence during which I became sensitive to a radical change in the attitude which these people bore to Cousin Egbert. They shot him looks of furtive but unmistakable respect, and Mrs. Effie remarked almost with tenderness: “We must admit that Cousin Egbert has a certain way with him.” “I dare say Floud and I can adjust the matter satisfactorily to all,” remarked Belknap-Jackson, and with a jaunty affection of good-fellowship, he opened his cigarette case to Cousin Egbert. “I ain’t made up my mind yet where I’ll have him stay,” announced the latter, too evidently feeling his newly acquired importance. “I may have him stay one place, then again I may have him stay another. I can’t decide things like that off-hand.” And here the matter was preposterously left, the aspirants for this social honour patiently bending their knees to the erstwhile despised Cousin Egbert, and the latter being visibly puffed up. By rather awkward stages they came again to a discussion of the United States Grill. “The name, of course, might be thought flamboyant,” suggested Belknap-Jackson delicately. “But I have determined,” I said, “no longer to resist America, and so I can think of no name more fitting.”