“Ah, you will dane to come, will you?” cried the joyous Mr. Withersquash, and he added: “We might perhaps get wed later on, eh?” with a meaning wink. “Ma, ma!” cried Selia tripping within. “Mr. Withersquash and me are going off to get into socierty, pray pack my attire,” for Selia was always nice in her speech when folks were about. While her Ma packed a bag, the young pair chatered together while Selia wrote a few notes to the boys by way of regret, for she was a popular girl, and Mr. Withersq stuck the stamps on. It was a largish bag in which her Ma packed her garments, which had been good in its time, and she put in a nightdress very litel soiled as the washing was not yet aired not to say ironed, still it had some ribbons in. Also she slipped in a nice toothbrush with green jelly handle, some smelling sope with flannel for the neck, and an amusing book to read in bed, entittled Peep of Day as even she knew that it is very smart to read a bit in bed. “Fare well, my child,” she uttered with a tear or two yet smiling at the offspring of her lions. “And maybe you’ll have changed your name when we meet again. There’s as good fish in the sea, you know what I mean,” adding a sidefaced skowl at Mr. Withersq who truth to say she didnt set much store by, nor Selia neither at that time. But the ma thought if her girl could only get out into socierty all would be well. Off they went with a wave of the hand to the adventers in our next. CHAPTER TWO “Where in deauce shall we start?” said Mr. Withersq when they got round the corner. “We might suitably have a taxi to start off with.” “Indeed yes,” simpered Selia as to the manner born, with a good pull at her garters, at which the perfunctery Mr. Withersq ran into the road and he soon found a fresh-looking taxi. The driver was rather a kindly man with frizzled beard. “Now my man, drive us about through some smart places,” said our hero, blowing in his cheeks and breathing, but he really felt rather little because of not yet knowing his way about the town. “How would you care for an airing around Kensington, for that is a good part my lord,” said the taxi man. Mr. Withersq replied “Certenly, certenly, my good man,” and with a wink of glee at each other he and his dear wench Selia popped into the motor. “What a whiz,” yelled Mr. Withersq as they poured through the streets. When they arrived in Kensington, Mr. Withersq tossed the man some money in silver very lordly, so he drove off highly gratifyed. They had a look round. “This is a bit slow,” said Selia, “I dont think this is hardly society. Where we live is very like, only less dogs and the prams not so sparkly.” For on every side beneath the trees spanking nurses trundled smart prams tidily followed by neatly brushed dogs. It was indeed smart, but of rather a nursery sort, and not what our pair were out after. “Indeed things are a bit slow in Kensington,” replyed Mr. Withersq. “I tell you what,” he went on, “we might go to a party.”