"I mean, do you attend regularly?" he amended hastily. "Oh, yes, of course," Josie simpered, accepting the glass he offered her. "You make it a rule to go every Sunday, don't you, Mr. Duncan?" He permitted himself an indiscretion, secure in the belief it would pass unchallenged: "It's one of the rules, but I didn't make it." "Did you know there was a vacancy in the choir?" Angle asked, taking up her glass. "Choir?" "Yes," Josie chimed in; "we were hoping you'd join. I want you to, awfully." "We're both in the choir," Angie explained. "And all the girls want you to join. Don't they, Angie?" "Oh, yes, indeed; they're all just dying to meet you." "I'll have to write and ask," he said abstractedly. "Why, what do you mean by that?" Josie's question struck him dumb with consternation. He made curious noises in his throat, and fancied (as was quite possible) that they eyed him in a peculiar fashion. "It's--I mean--a little trouble with my throat," he managed to lie, at length. "I must ask my physician if I may, first." "Oh, I see," said Josie. "But," he hastened to change the subject, "you're not drinking, either of you. I sincerely hope it's not so very bad." Angie replaced her glass, barely tasted. "Do you like it, Josie?" To Josie's credit it must be admitted that she made a brave attempt to drink. But the mixture was undoubtedly flat, stale and unprofitable. She sighed, put it back on the counter, and rose to the emergency. "Mine's perfectly lovely"--with a ravishing smile--"but it's not very sweet." "I made them dry for you--thought you'd like 'em that way," he stammered. "Perhaps you'd like 'em better if I put a collar on 'em?" The chorus negatived this suggestion very promptly. "Why don't you try a glass, Mr. Duncan?" Angie added with malice. "I'm on the wagon--I mean, I don't drink at all," he said wretchedly; and was deeply grateful for the diversion afforded by the entrance of a third customer. It was Tracey Tanner, as usual swollen with important tidings, as usual propelling himself through the world at a heavy trot. It has always been a source of wonderment to me how Tracey manages to keep so stout with all the violent exercise he takes. "Say, Angle," he twanged at sight of her, "I've been lookin' for you everywhere. Did you hear that----" He stopped instantaneously with open mouth as he saw Duncan behind the counter; and openmouthed he remained while the young man came round and advanced toward him, with a bland smirk accompanied by a professional bow and rubbing of hands. "May I have the pleasure of serving you, Mr. Tanner?" "Huh?" bleated Tracey, dumbfounded. "Is there anything you wish to purchase?" A violent emotion stirred in Tracey. Sounds began to emanate from his heaving chest. "N-n-no, ma'am!" he breathed explosively. Duncan bowed again, his face expressionless. "Then will you be good enough to excuse me?" He turned precisely and made his way back to the counter.