"I've only been awake for two hours listening to that peach of a skirt trying to make you fuss her a bit, and I thought I would bring you a nip to pick you up after your fight. Gee, it is as I suspected. You are off on a wedding tango and that makes you cold to all wiles! My son, for a wedding garment that thing you have in your hand is a winner. I can't sleep in silk myself because it makes me feel like a wet dog, but you'll be so beautiful in them that the bride will be jealous of you and say that even if you are so pretty now you will fade early or that you buy your complexion at the corner emporium. Go on, put 'em on, or was you just looking at 'em for pleasure and going to save 'em by sleeping 'as is'? Me, I always undress to the skin, but some don't." "I--I was just looking at them with pleasure," I made haste to answer that Mr. G. Slade of Detroit. "When upon travels I always fear to disrobe myself. I think that I will now retire," and with a haste that made my hands tremble I replaced the sleeping garments in the large bag and prepared to flee down the aisle to the sleeping apartment in which was the protection of another woman's presence. "Not even a nip before you go?" he asked me as he held the large bottle to his lips and threw back his head for a gurgling down his throat. "No, with much gratitude, and good night," I answered as I rapidly departed with my cheeks in a flame of scarlet and a fear in my heart. In my flight I passed by that number of seven and came very near opening the curtains of the number of five and precipitating myself upon the bayonets of black taffeta that stood firm from a hat so placed as to bar my intrusion. From that accident I turned and sought the kind black male chamber-maid with a request that he show me how to insert myself into the right place for sleeping. "Right here, Boss. Climb up on these little steps and then hand me down your shoes. Soft now; I think the lady am asleep." "Good night, and I'm not nervous," I heard a laugh of mischief come from behind a second and short green curtain, that veils the lower of the sleeping shelves, just as I fell onto my shelf above and lay with a panting of relief. CHAPTER IV THE IMPOSSIBLE UNCLE ROBERT