“I wouldn’t be Longridge’s bed-maker, if I was paid for it.” “Bed-makers are paid for it,” said the Babe. “Besides, as he truly says, if you can have a dumb waiter why not have a dumb bed-maker made of some stronger material?” “He never said anything of the kind, Babe,” said Ealing. “My dear chap, he has said lots of things of the kind. You force me to contradict you. He hardly ever says anything of any other kind.” “Babe, will you or will you not come out?” demanded Reggie. “I will not come out. I’m not going to spoil my tea by going for a horrid walk.” “I wish you would listen to reason.” The Babe murmured something inaudible about there being no reason to listen, but when pressed, confessed that he had been reading the _Green Carnation_ and it had affected his brains. But Reggie, following, as the Babe said, “that blind instinct which makes us Englishmen what we are”--he was taking liberties with the remarks made by his fellow-guest at the T.A.F.--insisted on going out and taking Ealing with him, though promising to come back for tea, and the Babe was left to himself. He was conscious of feeling a little flat, now that the Greek play was over, and he half wondered to himself what he had done before it began, to get through the time. For instance, to-day it was barely half-past three, he was not going to dine till eight, and he had already done as much work as he meant to do. He thought bitterly that Dr. Watts had very much overrated Satan’s powers of invention. The upshot was that he fell asleep and Reggie and Ealing returning an hour later found him stewing contentedly in front of the fire. The Babe was rather cross at being awakened, and he said they smelt horribly frosty. Also he wished the door to be shut, and he was very hungry. Why were they so unkind, and what had he done to deserve this? But the muffins came before long, and the Babe recovered his admirable serenity under the cheering influence of most of them. “And though your muffin,” he remarked, “is said to destroy the coats of the stomach, no such ill effects will be experienced if the patient takes enough of them. My only misgiving is that I have not taken enough. And yet I have taken all.” “How much dinner do you suppose you will be able to eat?” asked Reggie, who was still gazing incredulously at the empty dish which the Babe had put on the table close to him. “As much as Stewart will be kind enough to give me. And his board is usually plentifully spread. If he asks me to dinner much oftener I shall feel bound in common gratitude to tell him the truth about my royal visitor in the Long. I wish I’d had a photograph of the group taken, Jack really looked too splendid.”