When they had eaten all they could they pushed back from the tabel and had a bit of talk. “And are you glad now, dear Withersq that you got made head poet?” asked Rupert in a polite tired voice. “Oh yes, that I am” said Mr. Withersq, “for I dearly want to get on.” “And so do I,” lisped Selia “although it is not all plane sailing, alas.” “Come, brother,” cried Rupert Majpottel to Gerald with kind condescencion. “Why not lets help this young pair.” “Why yes,” replied Gerald, “they must fix up some more brite idears like the poetry and become famous for that is the way to shine, and get on, if you are not born to the manner.” Mr. Withersquash was feeling a bit sick but he cheered up now and enquired the way to make the smartest baronesses and such to take notice. “You see, dear sir,” he said, “I would very much like to ask Miss Selia to become Mrs. W. but I cant very well until I know where I am, can I? Eh?” Selia was overcome with blushes, for she had learnt to love her Harold by now, and very much fancied herself as his wife, though this was the first he had said of it. “It is all right for you,” replied Rupert, “seeing you have come in to a good bit of money and are now the head poet, although not quite the thing in some ways if I may say so without offence.” “Not at all,” said Mr. Withersq. “What you mean is that Selia must have her bit of success too, do you?” “Well, yes,” said the brothers, “it is a hard world for the ladys if they are not quite the thing, and you see when a lady is a wife, she must be up to all the ways of the world else she looks a bit silly doesn’t she, and people dont come to see her you know, which is rather a bore.” “Give us a few handy tips,” said Selia for she was not so stuck up but what she was willing to try and go one better. “Well to begin with you must get a few clothes, such as fur coats and some nice evening togs and some long narrow shoes,” said Rupert rather thoughtfully. “If you go to a good shop the ladys there will tell you what you ought to have.” “Why yes” said she gleefully, “Harold you shall buy me all those and some good hats and a gold-stalked umberella.” “Certenly, certenly” replied the good Mr. Withersq. “Then you might try talking in that boomy voice we use” Gerald took up the tale, “and try and look a bit fed up with things, you know, but that isnt really all, for you simply must be a bit of a toff at something or other and then the baronesses will notice and remember who you are which is the great idear.” “With pleasure” replied Selia with a hiccup from the stout she had had, “but what had I better do? I am only a simple girl, and know very little.” “What do you say to that?” Mr. Withersq asked the brothers with a scratch at his nose, “I hardly know what to suggest myself.” “Do you sing?” Gerald asked. “No” said Selia dully. “Cant you do anything besides play the piano?” asked Mr. Withersq.