"Hanged if I know who wished this thing on me." "Take it philosophically," said the editor sarcastically. "The princess won't bite you. She may even have seen your picture--" "Get out!" grumbled Norton, turning away. He would go out and see Florence. On the way out to Riverdale he came to the conclusion that the list of the princess fell short and some friend of his who was helping the woman out suggested his name. It was the only way he could account for it. But when he learned that Florence had an invitation exactly like his own and that she received it that morning he became suspicious. "Jones, what do you think of it?" he questioned. "I think it was very kind of the Countess Perigoff suggesting your name and that of Florence," said the butler urbanely. "Olga?" cried Florence disappointedly. "It is the only logical deduction I can make," declared Jones. "They are both practically Russians." "And what would you advise?" asked Norton. "Why, go and enjoy yourselves. Forewarned is forearmed. The thing is, be very careful not to acquaint any one with the character of your disguise, least of all the Countess Perigoff. Besides," Jones added smiling, "perhaps I may go myself." "Goody! I've read about masked balls and have always been crazy to go to one," said Florence with eagerness. "Suppose we go at once and pick out some costumes?" suggested Norton. "Just as soon as I can get my hat on," replied Florence, happy as a lark. "But mind," warned Jones; "be sure that you see the costumer alone and that no one else is about." "I'll take particular care," agreed Norton. "We've got to do some hustling to find something suitable. For a big affair like this the town will be ransacked. All aboard! There's room for two in that car of mine; and we can have a spin besides. Hang work!" Florence laughed, and even Jones permitted a smile (which was not grim this time) to stir his lips. A happy person is generally unobservant. Two happy persons together are totally unobservant of what passes around them. In plainer terms this lack is called love. And being frankly in love with each other, neither Norton nor Florence observed that a taxicab followed them into town. Jones, not being in love, was keenly observant; but the taxicab took up the trail two blocks away, so the matter wholly escaped Jones' eye. The two went into several costumers', but eventually discovered a shop on a side street that had been overlooked by those invited to the masquerade. They had a merry time rummaging among the camphory-smelling boxes. There were dominoes of all colors, and at length they agreed upon two modest ones that were evenly matched in color and design. Florence ordered them to be sent home. Then the two of them sallied up to the Ritz-Carleton and had tea.